


Glitches in the Matrix

by hipsterhufflepuff



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - E-Sports, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boys Will Be Boys, College Adventures, Desmond Miles Needs a Hug, Drama, Drinking, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family Drama, Found Family, Give Desmond a Break, Hijinks & Shenanigans, I say as I put him through Hell..., Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Underage Drinking, but not in a misogynistic way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23220196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hipsterhufflepuff/pseuds/hipsterhufflepuff
Summary: Desmond Miles is running away from his past, moving cities and changing everything about him, he finally thinks he can make a peaceful life. He obtains a job working with a family friend at a bookshop that holds game nights every Tuesday and Thursday night for The Killer’s Code, an online gaming series with competitions and teamwork. There he meets Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, Ezio Auditore, Connor Kenway, Arno Dorian, and twins Jacob and Evie Frye, who try to convince him to join their team.One thing leads to another and now they are all deep in a mystery of lies and deception not only with their rivals, but with the gaming company Precursor. More truths are uncovered and hijinks ensue. It is going to take all seven of them to beat the J.U.N.O virus and try to meet all of their deadlines before the end of the year.They’re going to need a lot of coffee to be able to pull this off.
Relationships: Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad & Desmond Miles, Desmond Miles & Lucy Stillman, Desmond Miles & Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor, Ezio Auditore da Firenze & Desmond Miles
Comments: 17
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to this very self-indulgent fic that's been bouncing around my head for a few months. Since the quarantine has taken away my last semester of college, I might as well live vicariously through these characters going through the trials and tribulations of being a young adult in the American education system. 
> 
> Enjoy the hijinks and drama about to ensue :)

Desmond was going to vomit.

Now, what on Earth could make a young adult man, who has been through Hell and back more than once, want to spill the contents of his stomach? The answer was almost as shocking as it was pitiful.

The bookshop on the corner of the downtown street was small and quaint. It was something out of an introverted bookworm’s dream, with two floors of novels and textbooks with plenty of room to sprawl out and spend hours in peace, just a two-minute walk from the university’s campus and a reasonably priced coffee shop just across the street. It was heaven for some, but the sight of it alone made Desmond want to upchuck in the gutter like a 17-year-old kid who overestimated their tolerance for alcohol.  
Then again, it wasn’t just the sight of a building that made him sick, he gave himself more credit than that. It was the thought of applying and interviewing for a job, the potential for them to deny him that churned his stomach, (although that was almost just as pitiful).

“Alright Desmond, you can do this.” He told himself, shaking out his hands to relieve the nerves, careful of the printed out resume in his hands. “You are going to march up into that store like a badass, slam this wonderfully detailed and color-coded piece of shit on that front desk, and demand that they give you a job. You deserve this chance, you have done plenty of filing in your day, why not get paid for it? You already got this. You are qualified. You’ve got this.”  
He paused, realizing that he was pacing back and forth in front of the bookstore, wringing his hands and whispering to himself like some crazed movie villain about to reveal their evil plans. Desmond let out a deep breath and cracked his neck. 

_Let’s do this._

Desmond walked up as confidently as he could muster, gripping the handle and pushing the heavy looking door.  
The problem was that he severely miscalculated the weight of the old wooden door. He sent it slamming it into the wall with a crashing sound that was amplified in the quiet interior. Desmond froze, eyes wide as he realized that not one, but three of the window panes had completely shattered, spilling glass all over the hardwood. Every person in the vicinity jumping and looking at him with either shock, annoyance, or tired looks in their eyes as if Desmond had caused such a horrific scene on purpose. A couple of the people from upstairs even peeked down the spiral staircase to see what the commotion was. 

Now Desmond was really going to be sick.

His saving grace from the unwavering stares came in the form of a grouchy-looking student. The man strode out from behind the desk, crossing his arms, the square glasses flashing in the sunlight as he took in the damaged door. Desmond saw the man’s face go through all five stages of grief, then settling of disappointment as he looked up at him. 

“Congratulations. You’ve managed to break a door that is older than any person in this building.” The man sighed. “I pray that you have some way to pay for this.”  
“I, uh yeah, I do!” Desmond said awkwardly, his hand still on the knob of the door. “I mean I will. I’m here to speak to Lucy, the manager.” He half-heartedly held up his resume, allowing the man to scrutinize it. 

“You’re the guy Lucy wants as the storeroom attendant?” His eyes rolled over the wrinkled t-shirt that he had slept in and torn jeans.  
“Yeah, she wanted me to come in for an interview. She said to dress normally.” Desmond defended his attire.  
“Hm.” The man took his resume, looking over his bare-bones piece of paper he had to ask a librarian to fill in some of the blanks. The silence was killing Desmond, shifting awkwardly from one foot to another, ignoring the sound of crunching glass under his sneakers, looking around the shop for some source of relief. Most of the students around him had gone back to their business, the only thing breaking the silence was an acoustic pop song that he vaguely recognized.

“So, what makes you think you are even qualified for this job?” The man asked as he handed back the paper, pushing the glasses up his face.  
“Lucy’s email said that she was in need of help, especially with odd hours and such. I figured it would be an easy job, plus I had an in already.”  
“Oh, so you’re not just a delinquent, you’re an entitled delinquent, hoping that you could just waltz in here and demand a job.” The man scoffed, Desmond narrowed his eyes. How dare this bastard berate him. What had Desmond done to piss him off? (Then he remembered the shattered glass on the floor).  
“You know, you’d be doing a lot more than stacking books, it actually will be work, especially for the likes of you.”

Before Desmond could object, probably start another scene, a hand thwacked the man across the back of his head.  
“Quit being a bully Shaun, we don’t wanna scare off the guy before he even gets the chance to start.” The dark-haired girl growled as she came out from behind him, hand poised and ready to strike again.  
“He broke our door!” The man now known as Shaun protested.  
“Big whoop, don’t act like you didn’t mess up the router for five hours yesterday. Now go be useful and sweep up this mess, please and thank you.” Shaun had the decency to look guilty as he turned away.  
The girl rolled her eyes, turning to Desmond with a smile. “I’m Rebecca, I help with the IT and other tech stuff around here, and the asshole is Shaun, who keeps our books and records, even if he’s not doing such a great job of it now. Welcome to the team.” 

“Oh, I thought I was here for an interview?” Desmond asked, slowly taking back his paper. He spent $2 at the library to get it printed in color.  
“Lucy doesn’t do interviews, she’s got this weird sixth sense thing where she knows that people are good. Plus, she says that she knows you from way back when. Come on, I’ll show you around.” Rebecca waved her hand for him to follow, leaving a sour-looking Shaun to clean up the broken glass. 

“Don’t worry about Shaun,” Rebecca spoke lowly to him as they walked back further in the shop. “He’s a pretentious bastard, thinking he’s better than us ‘yanks’.” She wrinkled her nose as she quoted him with her fingers. “He might not ever warm up to you because he’s as prickly as a cactus, but he’s the worst part of this job, which is saying something.”

Desmond merely nodded. He was used to being on people’s bad side, it wasn’t anything new to him. He took the time to look around his potential workplace. The shop wasn’t too extravagant, mostly filled with odds and ends furniture that looked like it had been donated or pick up out of a thrift store. Old wooden bookshelves lined the walls with books on everything from the human reproductive system to how to install Malware on laptops. There were more books in this one part of the shop than in any other place that Desmond had ever seen.

Rebecca shoved open a stubborn door, reaching overhead to snag a string to turn on the light. The narrow staircase felt like something out of a horror movie, the stairs even creaked and moaned as they would in a haunted house as they descended.  
“Luce, Desmond is here!” Rebecca called as they reached the bottom, a cluttered storeroom greeting them. Dozens of metal shelves taller than him crowded the space, papers threatening to spill out of the boxes. Somewhere behind the chaos, a door opened, a familiar figure struggling to move around all of the boxes. 

Peeking between boxes was a pair of blue eyes, crinkling as their owner smiled widely. Lucy Stillman, a woman just a few years older than him with blonde hair pulled into a very messy bun, finally extracted herself from the mess, brushing dust off of the brown leather jacket. 

“I swore I just cleared that path. The guys must have moved it to get to the back room.” She grumbled slightly, turning to Desmond with bright eyes. “It’s so good to see you Des.” 

“Uh, you too, Lucy” Desmond had never been one for nicknames, but he was always open for hugs. Not that she would have given him any leeway, as she had already crossed the distance between them, arms wrapped comfortably around his shoulders. He barely noticed Rebecca leaving, hugging Lucy back. She pulled away, brushing a stray hair out of her face.  
“Come on, we can catch up properly in my office.” Her hand snuck down and gripped his tightly, pulling him along after her further into the basement. 

Her office was just as crowded as the previous room, stacks upon stacks of books piled on nearly every flat surface, even the faded green couch in the corner were covered with boxes. Lucy dropped his hand and made just enough room for Desmond to sit, patting the seat invitingly. Careful of the precariously stacked boxes, he settled down. 

“Want something to drink? Water? Juice? I think I had a can of Pepsi somewhere around here. Or maybe I can order some food?”  
“Nah, it’s fine.” He waved her off, ignoring the quiet growl that his stomach gave in protest of being denied free food. It had been some time since his last full meal, and the handful of peanuts he had for breakfast was not cutting it anymore. But he would be damned if the first conversation that they had in years would start with him asking for something.   
“Okay, let me know though.” She pushed some old books away, resting against her desk, still smiling like a goon. Desmond swore that he could see the gap-toothed, pigtail girl he had grown up with on the farm. She and her family lived down the road from Desmond and his family. She was the only kid within twenty miles of his house, it had been friends at first sight. 

“God, how long has it been? Four years?”  
“Just over five years. Last I saw you I was helping your dad pack up the truck to move you up here.” School always seemed to separate Desmond and Lucy. She had gone to the public school in town, graduated top of her class with several colleges begging for her attendance. Desmond had home-school classes from the end of elementary school, taking more of a unique style of learning from his dad. Most people his age were in their final years or had already graduated and moved on to real jobs with salaries and dental insurance. Lucy was no exception, as she had graduated a full year early with a degree in Bio-Medical Research with a specialty in Genetics.   
“So how did you end up here? Running this...place?” Desmond was careful of the words he chose, waving his hand around.  
“I started working here freshman year, then I never really stopped. I was promoted to manager last year. The owner is in Greece for the semester on a sabbatical or something, she wouldn’t say. She said that if I helped run their shop for the time being, that she would help me pay for my Doctorate.”  
Desmond whistled. “Generous boss.”  
“You’re telling me.” Lucy chuckled. “I struck the jackpot with her, although I think that she low-key wants me to be her sugar baby. She has a shit ton of money, but no one knows where it came from or what she does with it.” 

Lucy shook her head. “But what about you? What made you decide to come up to Abstergo University? You told me that you never wanted to go to school.”  
Desmond just barely caught himself from spilling his guts. She didn't need to know the whole truth yet, and he was nowhere near drunk enough to just come out and say it. “I guess I just wanted to be away from the farm, you know.”  
“Good choice, not too far away to miss home but just far enough to stop the random visits. How is your family?”  
“Mom’s doing okay. Dad’s still a bastard.”  
Lucy grimaced. “Oh, Des. He’s your dad, just because he’s hard on you doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care.”

Oh boy, Lucy has no idea what she was talking about. She hadn’t visited the Farm since high school, she hadn’t seen the horrendous battlefield that was the Miles’ residence, Desmond’s poor mother the mediator for their showdowns. Lucy had no clue the absolute shit-show that was his life.   
Instead of pouring out all of the drama of his life, he merely shrugged. Lucy did take that as a sign to move past the conversation, but Desmond knew this wasn’t the last time they would talk about this.  
“Have you found a place to live?”  
“Not exactly.” If you would call his car a residence, then yes, he found a place to live. “I’m still apartment hunting.” 

“You know, the dorms weren’t the worst. Plenty of people to meet and things to discover.” Lucy said. “Shaun is a Residential Assistant, I think he still had a room on his floor, maybe he could even room with you.”  
Desmond scoffed. He knew this other guy for maybe five minutes and Desmond had wanted to get into a shouting match with him. Living with him would be nightmare fodder.  
“Don’t worry Lucy, my next stop is the campus apartment complexes. See if they’ll take any late signers.” They wouldn’t, as Desmond had already tried to find a one-bedroom apartment with no luck, and he didn’t know anyone well enough to move in with. Plus the down payment for a lease would have sent a fraud alert to his credit card company. 

“Okay, if you ever need a place to crash though, the couch is always free.”  
“Even when it’s covered by books?”  
“Haha, I’m working on it. Besides, that’ll be your job.”  
“Who says I need a job?” He teased.  
“You did, you’re the one who emailed me first.”  
Touché. “Can you tell me more about it?”

“Of course!” She sent him another wide grin. “You’d be running most weekends and after 5 pm on most weekdays. Sorting the books by genre first, figuring out which ones we could use and which ones to ditch. Once we’ve got everything sorted, then we’ll focus on stacking and organizing.”  
“Sounds easy enough.”  
“You haven’t even seen all of the books. This bookstore only has the ones from the first warehouse.”  
“First?” Desmond didn’t want to know how many warehouses this mysterious owner had. 

“As I said, you’d be helping to run the store after 5 pm. We usually stay open until 9. Except for Monday's, Tuesday’s, and Thursday’s, then we can be open here until midnight some nights.”  
“What for?  
“Monday's are for the tutoring sessions I run. We mostly work one-on-one, so I should be here for the whole time. Tuesday's and Thursday’s are also game nights.”

“Game nights? Like, scrabble or some shit?”  
“No, it’s one of the student organizations. It’s for some multiplayer game that holds competitions every so often. Apparently it’s quite serious, I think the National Competitions run on some backwater ESPN channel. We’ve got a couple of groups on campus that compete, and one of them comes here to do mock matches and such.” She waved her hand.

“Huh.” Desmond hummed. It was a new thing for people to play multiplayer games as a sport, it was an uprising thing nowadays. Unfortunately, his parents hadn’t allowed him to own a gaming console, so he never got into the scene.  
“You should check them out, they’re nice, a bit too competitive and over-invested with this game, but they clean up well and never make me regret hosting them.” 

“Yeah.” Desmond said noncommittally. He did not have time to fool around. He was trying to play catch up with the rest of the world and find another decent-paying job besides Lucy’s. He wouldn’t have time to take a breath, let alone play some game. “How soon do you want me to start?”  
“Today is good if you’re free. There’s some paperwork to fill out,but honestly, we could use the help.”  
“Yeah, whatever you need.” Getting paid as soon as possible sounded wonderful. 

“Awesome, I’ll go grab the papers, just sit tight. We’ll clean up the office first. We can even order a pizza and watch a movie for old times sake.”  
“Absolutely.” There wasn’t even a moment for hesitation in his response. “Nothing too sappy though, don’t want you crying on me.”  
“That was one time,” Lucy defended. “You’re the one who had never seen _Titanic_.”  
“Yet I wasn’t the one crying at the door scene.” 

The door slamming open interrupted their laughter. A hooded man stood in the door, practically seething where he stood. The man looked menacing. Although Desmond flinched at the sound, Lucy only sighed tiredly.

“How many times have I asked you to knock before barging in? You have no idea what I could be doing.”  
“I peeked through the curtains, you weren’t busy.” He said darkly. “There are people in my area again.”  
“The fall semester hasn’t even begun, who could be doing stuff in your spot?”  
“That’s the thing. They aren’t. They’re texting and being obnoxious.”  
“I can’t kick people out just for being loud,” Lucy told him, crossing her arms. “Have you asked them to move? Or did you just glare at them and hope for the best?”  
“I asked, and they said they’d only be another minute. That was two hours ago. Now they are refusing to listen.” 

Desmond didn’t blame him for barging in now.  
Lucy shrugged.  
“Well, you did all the right steps before coming to me, I’ll give you that. Let me go talk to them. Maybe I can give them a coupon for the coffee shop across the road.”  
“Do whatever you need to do. I’ve got 23 papers to grade.” 

“Will you be alright hanging out here Des?”  
Finally, the man noticed him, but God, Desmond kinda wished that he hadn’t. The eyes that scrutinized him were bright, almost an unnatural light brown color, it did make him feel like a mouse trapped in the gaze of a cat. It also unnerved him of how they both had similar scars on their faces, almost identical save for the severity of the mark. His was more faded while Desmond’s was still pink and shiny. The man looked him up and down, giving a small sigh.  
“Altaïr.” He stuck his hand out to him, Desmond stood to accept.  
“Desmond Miles, are you Lucy’s friend?”

“Friend is a bit of a stretch.” Lucy filled in. “Altaïr is a graduate student here, he TA’s a couple of 100 level classes. He’s also the guy to talk to if you’re interested in the game stuff they’re apart of, he’s the advisor.”  
“Oh, cool,” Desmond said. “Suppose I’ll be seeing you a lot, I just got hired in.” 

Altaïr looked him up and down again, Desmond tried to pretend that it didn’t make him feel as small as it did.  
“Suppose so.”  
Then he spun on his heel and left.

“Altaïr has a... special way to communicate. The fact that he spoke back is a good sign though.” Lucy walked to her desk, pulling out a couple of yellow coupons from a broken drawer and bumped it back as far as it will go. “This shouldn’t take long, I’ll be right back. Sure you don’t wanna join?”  
“Positive, not gonna lie, he gave me the heebie-jeebies.”  
“I don’t blame you. Wanna get started on sorting then?”  
“Sure thing boss lady.” He grinned with a mock salute.

“Wonderful, be right back.” Lucy took two steps, pausing in the doorway. She turned towards him, still smiling warmly. “I’m really glad you’re here Desmond.”  
“I’m glad I’m here too, Lucy.”  
Maybe it was finally time for him to get his life on track. And maybe, just possibly, there could be some pizza involved.


	2. Chapter 2

///

The start of the school year snuck up on like an attack from behind, swift and leaving no prisoners in its wake. Desmond’s first week of classes blurred into a flurry of homework assignments, advising appointments for finding a major, job hunting, and stacking and unstacking books at the shop. Desmond often found himself parking his car in the campus parking lot just to catch a few hours of rest before rushing to the next thing. 

It wasn’t a glamorous life, but it was a thousand times better than life at home. No curfew, no pointless lessons about some dead language, or constant butting heads with his dad. If he had a constant roof over his head, this life would be ideal.

Lucy’s book store wasn’t too hard of work, mostly just heavy lifting and picking out the best books from boxes, but he could see where they needed the help. Just as Desmond had finished sorting one area, a new crate came in and ruined his progress. Shaun gave him a hard time for not organizing the books correctly, a dumb thing to become angry over, but gave Desmond no direction on how to fix the issue. He was just always going to be on the man’s bad side, might as well get used to it. Usually, Rebecca or Lucy was there to put Shaun in his place, but it wasn’t like Desmond couldn’t be sassy back. 

Most of the time everyone went home around 8 pm, save for the Game Nights. A group of students around his age usually came in as a group around 6 pm, chatting animatedly among themselves as they let themselves into the back room, Desmond catching a glimpse of the room, filled with couches too ugly to be called vintage and several chairs with stuffing pouring out of busted seams. It was a small room, but it must have worked for them, he never heard any complaints.

He hadn’t spoken to anyone in the group but Altaïr, who would close the door to the room after everyone would leave and offer a curt _‘bye’_ as he left. At least they were polite, Desmond never had to clean up after them or become distracted by their antics. He usually tried to stay out of the way whenever they were present, plugging in his headphones and blaring music as he worked.  
Tonight was not a good night for his focus, even his own music choice was too much for his brain to focus on his tasks. He left his headphone in, but no sound flowing through. That’s how he was able to hear the chatter behind him, two people hiding behind one of the bookshelves. 

“That’s the guy Altaïr was talking about. What’s his name again?” A voice asked in a stage whisper.  
“Hell if I know. Altaïr should know, he’s the only one who’s met the dude.” Another responded. “I think it started with a D.”  
“That doesn’t help, dumbass.”  
“It’s more than you knew!” The other voice shot back. 

At this point, Desmond was trying to keep a straight face, keep his shoulders from shaking with laughter. He couldn’t see who was struggling so hard, but he played along just to mess with them, even humming along to a random song as he continued to sort the books.

“Daniel?” The first voice said.  
“David?”  
“Danny?”  
“That’s just another name for Daniel.”  
“Fine, uh, Douglas?”  
“Donald!”  
“I bet it doesn’t even start with a D.”

This was probably the most entertained that Desmond had been all week, and as much as he wanted them to continue, these guys definitely needed something, otherwise they would have kept their distance like in the times before. He took out his earbuds and turned around as if he just noticed their presence. Two guys maybe a few years younger than he was, both brunettes, but one had a newsboys cap on, the other had a blue hoodie on with the hood pulled over his head.  
“Did you guys need something?”

“Yes!” Newsboy cap said happily. “You’re Lucy’s helper, right?”  
“That’s me.”  
“Cool, we need the wifi set up again.”  
“Isn’t it an open server?” Desmond asked.  
“It was last year apparently, but it is password protected now.” Blue hoodie said. “We’ve been mooching off of the cafe’s wifi the past week, but it’s slower than shit and they’re closed.”  
“I don’t know where Lucy keeps the wifi password at, have you tried the router number on the modem.” 

“Altaïr had that idea, but it isn’t the number on there. He’s threatening to skip the thing across the campus pond.” Newsboy cap said.  
“Well, to save Lucy some trouble of fishing out her router, let me see what I can do.”  
“Awesome, I’m Jacob by the way. That’s Arnold.”  
“It’s _Arno_ , with no D.” Arno corrected the other boy.  
“Desmond Miles.” 

He didn’t miss the shove Jacob gave Arno as he walked by. “I was close. We should have had a bet on it.”  
“No, you weren’t.”  
“I was closer than you were.”  
“Whatever floats your boat, Princess.” Arno pulled the barn door open, ushering Desmond in first. 

Four guys and one girl in the room immediately looked at him. Desmond tried not to feel like a deer in the headlights as he was scrutinized by the members of the video game club, (which is not a sentence Desmond thought he would ever say).

“Where’s Lucy?” Altaïr immediately demanded from where he was crouched in front of the modem, glaring daggers at the machine as if it would work if he stared hard enough.  
“Last I heard she had an emergency tutoring session, but she wouldn't answer her phone unless the store is on fire.” Desmond said.  
“Do you have the password?”  
“No, you could go look in Lucy’s office, but that place is becoming hazardous. I think there was something alive in one of the boxes. Let me see what I can do.” Six pairs of eyes followed him as he crossed the room. “Could I borrow someone’s laptop?” 

“Here.” Arno gently held out his laptop.  
“Thank you.” Desmond was not the tech wizard, but he’s had to figure out his way around several internet lockdowns before, so it was a familiar practice. He just hoped it worked the same here as it did back home. He minimized the error page of what must have been the game they played on and pulled up the system settings.  
As he was typing, he could feel the pressure of their gazes. One of the guys even moved from his spot to look at him. Desmond slowed his typing, looking at the man in front of him.  
“Can I help you?”

“Holy shit, you look just like Altaïr.”  
“Uh, thanks, I guess?” He glanced the other man in question, who merely scowled, rolling his eyes as he looked at his phone.  
“No, like literally, besides the hair, you look so similar.” The first guy gestured back and forth between the two guys. “You could be related. Have you ever done one of those ancestry tests, I feel like he could be a cousin or something.”  
“That’s how the government steals your information Ezio,” Jacob said. 

“It’s not that close of a similarity.” Altaïr rolled his eyes.  
“But they’ve even got the same scar on the same side. Hell, it kinda looks like mine too. We could all be related!” He laughed. Now that Desmond was looking, he could see a small scar breaking through the man’s facial hair, thin line over his mouth. It was on the same side as his and Altaïr's. That is very creepy.  
“Gods help me if I would be related to you,” Altaïr said bitterly, but Ezio just laughed. Desmond half-heartedly chuckled and focused on the wifi situation. 

“How did you get your scar?” Ezio asked, trying to start up a conversation with him.  
“I smashed my face into a cabinet,” Desmond replied immediately, so used to the story by this point. It’s what he told the ER doctors and nurses. Although it wasn’t the whole truth, it was as close as he would get with this group of strangers.  
“Oof, that’s rough.” Ezio grimaced. “I got mine in a knife fight.”  
“Hold on, you said it was a rock last time.” Arno said.  
“I heard it was someone’s ring from a fighting club.” Jacob protested.  
“Wait, who’s got it right then?” Arno asked Ezio.  
“I’ll tell you, boys, when you’re older.” He winked at his companions, who just groaned.

“Is the wifi back yet?” Altaïr asked impatiently.  
“Just about.” Desmond tapped the final few keys, pressing enter. “That should do it. Password is now _Books4All!_ , capital B and A, no space and an exclamation point at the end.”  
The girl in the back of the room typed quickly. “Works fine for me.”  
“Same here.” The guy with long dark hair next to her said.  
“All good,” Ezio confirmed. 

“Awesome, need anything else?” Desmond pushed himself to his feet.  
“Don’t you wanna stay?” Ezio asked. “Make sure that it doesn’t crash again.”  
“Desmond has to work to do, not that you would know what that is Ezio.” Altaïr said.  
“Bitch I work!” Ezio said defensively. “I just got confirmation that I start next week.”  
“Good, maybe this semester you’ll pay your bills on time, and I won’t have to call your mother,” Altaïr smirked when Ezio flipped him off. 

“I really should go.” Desmond kinda wanted to leave, already walking back towards the door.  
“Why not stay just a few moments.” Ezio pouted.  
“Let him go,” The guy from the corner spoke up. “He has already helped enough and he needs to work. Thank you, Desmond.”  
“No problem…dude.” Taking the cue to leave, Desmond turned on his heel and walked out of the room.  
“C’mon, we’ve already wasted an hour. Let’s try to get something out of tonight.” Altaïr said, drawing them back in. 

…

Desmond did his best to concentrate on his task, he honestly did. He had unpacked a box full of encyclopedias, which were organized over by the barn door, and he set to work to figure out which ones to keep and which ones to scrap. The sounds of lasers and their chatter kept him distracted, but he didn’t put back his earphones in. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but he would listen in on the one-sided conversations. Desmond had never heard of this game. From what he could tell, it was a teamwork game where they all had to complete the challenges to win. There wasn’t much yelling like he was expecting, mostly talking to each other about where to go and if they needed help. Occasionally someone would shout out some obscenity or start laughing.

He didn’t realize that he was frozen mid-movement until the noises of the game stopped, setting the book down with a shake of his head. He needed to focus on his work. Playing video games wasn’t going to pay for school, gas, or food, he was already just barely scraping by with just the one job and sleeping in his car. Stacking books wasn’t fun for anyone, but he needed to concentrate. 

“Hey Desmond?” Ezio’s voice called out. It was almost ridiculous how fast Desmond got to the door to respond.  
“What’s up? Did the wifi go out again?”  
“No no, just wanted to check on you, you stopped you’re shuffling.”  
“My…what?”  
Jacob jumped in to help. “When you work, you’re usually super quiet, but we can always hear your shoes against the floor, Ezio finds it comforting.” Ezio was quick to say that he wasn’t, but it went unheard.  
“I was just sitting, erm, standing still.” Desmond rubbed the back of his neck.  
“Oh, that good,” Ezio said, side-eying Altaïr as if to cue him in on something.

“We noticed that you were interested in the game, would you like to learn more?” Altaïr thankfully broke the tension.  
“Oh, no, I’m alright.” Desmond waved his hand.  
“So you’d rather eavesdrop on us?” The man asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“I wasn’t…I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”  
“Then stop being creepy and take a seat.” 

“Um…” Every person staring at him made him feel very uncomfortable. “I guess I could take a break now.”  
“There we go.” Ezio patted the sofa next to him. “Come have a seat, my friend.”  
Desmond sat on the couch, sinking down until his knees were almost to his chest. He was going to have a shitty time getting out of this later. 

“Fist of all, introductions.” Ezio said. “You know me and Al, we’re roommates. I’m a Junior standing and Al is a grad student.”  
Ezio motioned over to the guy from earlier and the dark hair girl towards the back. “This is Jacob and Evie. Evie is a freshman and Jacob works nearby at the _White Garter Auto Shop_. And yes, they are twins, but not identical.”  
“Oh, you’re in my math class.” Desmond recognized the girl from his advance algebra class, she always sat up towards the front and knew all of the questions, she seemed crazy smart and he only just met.  
“125? With Professor Omar, yeah?” She smiled in recognition. 

“The one in the hoodie is Arno, also a freshman. Unfortunately, I don’t know too much about him, but I’m determined to find out.“ Arno gave a little wave from where he was texting in a deflated beanbag chair. “And the absolute unit of a man is Connor, he’s a sophomore.” The guy next to Evie nodded, pushing long dark hair over his shoulder.  
“You finished yet?” Altaïr was perched on a stool in front of him, balanced perfectly that he didn’t even wobble. He reminded Desmond of a bird about to take flight (or a chicken about to lay an egg).  
“Just thought he should put names to faces, especially with us sharing the same space every Tuesday and Thursday night.” Ezio waved him off, letting the perched grad student turn his gaze to Desmond.

“What do you want to know?”  
“I, I mean I don’t know. What is this?”  
“You’ve never heard of the **Killer’s Code?** Do you live under a rock?” Arno asked.  
A joke about him living out of his car nearly slipped out, but he managed to save face in the end. “No, should I have?”

“It’s a popular online game. It’s like League of Legends meets Overwatch, but way better.” Ezio explained. When Desmond still gave a blank stare, Ezio backtracked. “It’s a multi-player game where the objective is to gain as many points as possible by attacking the enemy’s base. Of course, there are other objectives, like collecting loot and protecting the team’s base, but the way to win the round is to take over the other base. The first team to win three rounds is declared the overall winner.” 

“There are three classes of characters to choose from. Warrior, their objective is to fight through and get to the base. Tanks, who help to protect the defenses and have massive attacks. And Support, who back both parts with healing and finding the loot. Each character that you pick has it’s own backstory, a cache of weapons, and a special move if you rack up enough adrenaline points.”  
“So, who do you guys play as?” Desmond asked the group.

“Altaïr and Evie main on Warriors. Arno and I are Tanks. Then Connor mains as Support, but we can switch parts.” Ezio explained further.  
“Wait, what does Jacob do?”  
“I am the most important role. Chauffeur to my dear sister, because she lost her license.” Jacob spun his keyring around his finger, winking at his sister.  
"I didn't lose it, it was suspended for the rest of the year."Evie said dryly.  
"That's what happens when you drive down the wrong way of a one-way street in front of a cop. There were children who were playing, someone could have been hurt." Evie's leg shot out and a booted foot stuck her brother's wrist, throwing his balance off and sending his spinning keys flying across the room. He grumbled and he sunk to his knees to find them.  
“Since Jacob is not a student, he technically cannot be a part of the club's competitions. Right now he is helping to fill a spot until we find someone else to join.” Connor explained. 

“Sounds more complicated than I thought.” Desmond admitted.  
“That’s why we have these sessions to practice,” Evie said. “We use headphones to hear each other and communicate.”  
“Why not just talk to one another?” They were all in the same room as each other, why the extra work?  
“Gives us practice for tournaments,” Ezio explained. “Plus I think it’s that it gives something that Altaïr can bitch about when we forget.” The grad student rolled his eyes.

“Wait, tournaments? People compete with these games?”  
“Yeah, it’s pretty competitive too. There’s a huge competition in April. People from all over the nation compete for the trophy and cash prize.”  
“Do people actually go to these things?”  
Ezio gave him a knowing look. “Dude, look up last year’s competition, it’s pretty big. ESPN covers us, there’s a whole conference during it too so that we can meet with professionals or other gamers. Plus merchandise tables and cosplay competitions for the extra nerdy.” 

“Huh, sounds cool.”  
“So you’re in?” Jacob asked. “Because as much as I love playing with you guys, I think Altaïr will actually throttle me one of these times.”  
“In…Oh, no, I can’t join your club, I’m sorry.” Desmond said.  
“It’s only two nights a week, sometimes we hang out outside of the group and kinda play, but that’s just for fun.”

“I think if my laptop has to run anything outside of Google and Microsoft Word, I pretty sure it will crash and burn.” His was an old computer that needed to be plugged in to even turn on, and it ran just over 3 GB of memory.  
“Altaïr’s computer is older than shit and it runs the program perfectly,” Arno spoke up. “Sounds like you’re just trying to make up excuses.”  
“No no. It’s nothing against you guys, honestly, but I need to work and go to school, I don’t really have the space for games or clubs.”  
“I mean, we all have full course loads and I work full time…” Jacob started to talk, but Connor’s large hand covered his mouth.  
“Not everyone works the way that we work.” Connor was officially Desmond’s favorite person, he hardly knew the guy and he was already sticking up for him. 

Altaïr moved from his perch, eyeing Desmond up and down as if trying to read his true intentions. He could not figure out what he was scrutinizing him for, or what he was even looking for. It made him feel like he was under observation.  
“Hey, we’re not here to force anyone to join, we’re not those kinds of people,” Ezio said, putting his hands up. “You just looked interested, but I get it, college is busy.” 

“Yeah.” Desmond knew his break was over, fighting to get to his feet from the couch. “How long do you guys have now?”  
“We’re done for the night,” Altaïr said, shutting his laptop with a snap. “Clean up your shit so Desmond can go home.” He then turned to him, holding out his hand to him. “Give me your phone.”  
Desmond hesitated for only a moment before opening and handing over his cell phone. The guy didn’t even hesitate, typing away. 

“This is my personal number, I will never call you and only text in necessary moments, I expect the same from you as well.” He flipped it in his hand before returning the phone.  
“Of course.” Desmond agreed, looking at the contact information. No last name, just his name, and phone number. 

“I wonder if you could fool the facial recognition.” Jacob wondered aloud, Ezio looking up with wide eyes.  
“That might have been the best idea you’ve had in the week I’ve known you.”  
“They tend to happen once in a while.” Jacob shrugged. 

Evie strode forwards, her phone in hand.  
“Here, in case you wanna meet up to study. I read Dr. Omar's _Rate My Professor_ , he gives out really bad exams.”  
“Thanks, I will definitely need it.” Desmond punched his number in.  
“Cool, see you Monday.” She dragged her brother by his arm before he could try out his brilliant idea. Arno followed shortly afterward, giving a short wave to the group. Connor stayed back in order to put everything back to the way it was, dragging the couch singlehandedly even though Desmond knew it took him and Lucy to move it in here earlier this week. 

“We’ll see you Desmond.” Ezio clapped his shoulder as the three guys left together, Connor waved with a small smile, but Altaïr didn’t say anything, still, that odd look on his face, closing the door on book shelver.  
Desmond let out a breath, slowly making his way around to make sure they got everything before shutting off the lights. The books weren’t going anywhere, so he continued to shut down everything, locking the doors behind him. Shaun would probably find something about the way he closed the store to bitch about. His back ached deeply, especially with thinking about sleeping in his backseat again. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to do it much longer, as the little bit of money he had accumulated was growing. Maybe he could afford to sleep on someone’s couch after this month, and maybe a few months after he could buy his own place.

As he crawled into his car, he failed to notice the grey 4-Runner parked behind him, or that the occupants in the car were watching as he pulled away.  
“So why are we spying on the Desmond?” Connor asked from the backseat. “He seemed like a decent guy.”  
Ezio shrugged. “This is Altaïr’s plan, we’re just the unwilling participants.”  
“I want to know more about this guy.”  
“You don’t think that he could be part of the Knights?”  
“No, but something about him seems off. Like he isn’t telling the truth.”  
“He just met us tonight,” Connor said. “He does not seem like the type to talk about his past with strangers.”  
Altaïr hummed, drumming his thumbs against the steering wheel for a moment before starting up the car. 

“You should invite him out to lunch with Evie. Get to know him better.” Ezio said.  
“She already suggested it,” Connor said as he opened his phone.  
“Will you tell us what you plan on doing so we don’t get arrested?” Ezio asked his roommate.  
“You’ll know in a few days, just focus on getting information on him.” Altaïr finally pulled out of the parking spot, driving back to their apartment.

"Can we stop for food on the way back?" Ezio asked.  
"No."  
"I'll buy you a milkshake?"  
Altaïr paused for a moment. "Show me your wallet so I know you won't try to skimp out at the last second." "I changed my mind, let's just go home."  
"That's what I thought." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! Thank you for reading :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me editing this: Man, this feels like a shorter chapter than usual, hope they don't mind...  
> Me looking at the final word count: Oh...
> 
> I don't know how to make short things, so enjoy this chapter!

///

Now that Desmond had met the students in the gaming group, he couldn’t go anywhere on campus without seeing one of them.

Desmond had gone to get coffee before class, the coffee shop across the bookstore the best priced and the fastest service around campus, and at this hour, it was empty. It was one of those bougie coffee shops that served the fancy french presses and drip coffees while some acoustic pop song played in the background. There was a corner sectioned off for a small stage, where performances would take place every so often, it was a popular hang-out spot for students who wanted a more upbeat atmosphere than the bookstore. Desmond had been too busy scrolling through the job listings on his phone that he didn’t notice the familiar face leaning heavily against the counter until he was next in line.

Arno looked like he was slowly dying as Desmond approached.  
“Welcome to the _Theater Cafe_ , what can I get started for you?” It took a moment for the freshman to notice him, his eyebrows rising in surprise.  
“Desmond, right?” 

“Yeah, and you’re Arno?” The boy gave a thumbs up, a small smile on his face. “I didn’t know that you worked so close to the bookstore.”Just started this week, gotta make ends meet somehow, you know?” He shrugged, adjusting the towel on his shoulder. “It was this or food service, and I know I would not last a week in campus dining. Plus I have experience with latte art, I worked at a coffee shop back home, might as well do what I already know, right?”

“Pisspot.” Arno flinched as an older man with graying brown hair stuck his head out from the storeroom. “It’s not your break, stop socializing, and do your damn job.”  
“I live to serve.” He said softly, the sarcasm was barely hidden in his words as he rolled his eyes. “What can I get started for you today, good sir?”  
“Dark roast with cream and sugar, one shot of espresso please,” Desmond answered, side-eying the older man until he walked out of earshot.

“Coming right up.”  
Finally, the man went back into the storage room. “Although, I might not last long at this job if Bellec is always like this. I’d rather go broke.” He muttered softly.  
“I feel that.” Desmond sympathized as he was served his coffee by a red-haired girl, sliding his cash over the counter. 

“He’s a bastard, but he needs us more than we need him, right Arno?” The red-haired girl asked her coworker.  
“Yeah, I guess.” The girl was called over by the same manager they were shit-talking, leaving the two guys alone. “But if she’s here every time, maybe it won’t be so bad,” Arno said wistfully, a small smile growing on his face.  
“Who is she?”  
“Èlise, she’s a freshman in my dorm. We actually went to high school together, but she doesn’t remember me. She was a cheerleader and head of the debate team, I was a track runner and thespian, so we didn’t cross paths unless necessary.”

“Gotcha. Thanks for the coffee.” Desmond raised his cup in a show of appreciation.  
“Feel free to stop by, I usually work the same hours every day.” Arno waved him off, wincing as his new nickname was shouted again, Desmond barely missed the man lecturing him about stocking the bathrooms correctly as the door shut behind him.  
“When I can afford it.” He muttered to himself under his breath as he walked, sipping his drink. For the price, it wasn’t too bad, it would give him the energy for the busy day on campus.

His lectures seemed to crawl by, his only entertainment was listening for Evie’s voice in his math lecture, (it was scary how fast she could have the right answer), and counting how many pens the girl in front of him had lined up on her desk, (13, none of them the same color). The math professor dismissed them ten minutes after they were supposed to leave, a mass flurry of students trying to leave, and new ones enter the singular doorway. Desmond was finally able to extract himself from the mob and started walking down the hall. 

“Desmond!”  
He turned around at the sound of his name, looking down slightly to see Evie making her way over. She wasn’t massively short but still enough that Desmond had to bow his head. The braid that held her hair back was slightly messy from the struggle of getting out of the classroom. “Connor just texted me to get lunch, would you like to come with me?”  
“Oh.” Desmond started to do the math in his head. Had he not gotten coffee this morning, maybe he would have been able to afford it, but his budget could not take the meal on campus. Maybe the expensive coffee wasn’t worth the money. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on the two of you.” Even from his brief encounter, he could tell that the two of them were friends, even outside of the group.  
“How is it intruding if I invited you?” Evie asked, raising an eyebrow. “I already asked Connor and he seemed excited for you to come. I could swipe you in if needed?”

“I mean, if you’re willing.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly  
“Great! Connor said that his class got out early, so he can meet us right out front.”  
“Hmmm.” Desmond couldn’t remember the last time he had a meal that wasn't a cold can of Spaghetti-O's. They walked out of the building, blinking as the sun peeked from behind the clouds. Summer was desperately clinging on as much as the students were. Most people were still wearing their summer wardrobes, either walking leisurely or biking and skating past them. 

Connor sat up from the picnic bench several yards away, Evie waving at him as they walked by, lugging his backpack over his shoulder as he fell in step with them. His poor bag was bursting at the seams, textbooks and papers peaking out of the half-done zippers, but he seemed to handle it with ease. 

“I don’t understand how both of you guys are wearing jeans in this weather.” Evie motioned at their attire as they walked.  
“It was cold this morning, not all of us live on campus and can change when we want,” Desmond argued. It was hard to gauge the weather from his car, so he’d wear layers and take away as the day called for it. “Besides you are wearing leggings, that’s almost the same thing.”  
“It isn’t. They’re capris.”  
“So all you’ve got are excuses.”  
“Connor, I officially rescind my invite for Desmond.” She said with a small smile. 

“How could you tease me? Promising me meatloaf then snatching it away. Now I have to go to work hungry.”  
“I suppose that I can re-invite you. I wouldn’t want Lucy thinking I’m to blame for you not eating.”  
“South quad, right?” Desmond pointed towards the side of the campus. He was still getting the layout and it was easy to get lost on a campus the size of Abstergo University. 

“I want to go to North Quad.” Connor said, sharply turning in the opposite direction, tugging their arms to force them to follow.  
“Hey, wait, Connor.” Evie protested at the sudden movement.  
Connor either did not hear them or did not care, frog-marching them back the way they had just come from, glancing over his shoulder.

“Did you see something?” Desmond asked, Connor finally allowing them to slow down to a normal pace again. There had been a student-led protest in the central square earlier, maybe the cops had shown up to settle the young adults. Maybe it got too rowdy.  
Connor didn’t answer, pushing his hands into his pockets, but the tension remained in the clench of his jaw and stiffness in his shoulders.  
“Or someone? Like an ex? Or a professor that did you wrong.” Evie suggested quietly, but stopped quite quickly after seeing him hunch over slightly as he walked.

“So what did you think of lecture today?” Evie asked Desmond, trying to lighten the mood with a subject change.  
“I don’t think I understood one word of his lecture.” He shrugged. “I’m going to try to go to his office hours to see if he can explain it in dumb words so I can try to understand it.”  
“Don’t even,” Evie waved her hand dismissively. “I saw your test on the first day. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were one of the smartest in the class.”  
“Why not the smartest person?”  
“No, that’s my spot, and I will not give it up.” 

“How was your lab, Connor?” Evie asked.  
The man shrugged, still brooding.  
“Lab? Are you a Bio student or something?” Desmond threw out a random science major, trying to gauge something about his larger companion. He was a man of few words, and while Desmond didn’t want to pry, he was curious.  
“Nursing.” He answered.  
“Really? That’s cool.”  
Connor looked at him quizzically. “You think so?”  
“Yeah. We need more people healthcare professionals, especially with as many idiots as we have in the world.” 

Desmond saw the smile grow on his face like he wasn’t used to being praised for following his dream. It made the stoic and almost stern look that was his resting face melt into one of pride. Not to be dramatic, but Desmond would have committed many crimes to make him smile like that.  
“What made you want to go into nursing?”  
Connor was silent for a moment, nudging Desmond out of the way of an oncoming skateboarder.  
“Spite.” He said simply when they reconvened. 

Evie snorted when she laughed. “Seriously?”  
“My father wished for me to go into a more prestigious profession like a law or a business degree. But I want to actually help people on a one-to-one basis, not just crunch numbers or fight petty battles that do more harm than good. So I get to help people and spite him with one profession.” 

“Damn, I wish my reason was as cool, but I just like history.” Evie said. “I’m a history major with an archeology minor.” She explained to Desmond.  
“Have you figured out what you want to do?” Connor asked as he held the door to the commons building for them.  
“Not yet, my advisor is getting on my ass about picking a major. Which is shit, because in the summer, they told me I had nothing to worry about, but the moment I got here they demanded that I pick something just so I wouldn’t fall behind.” Desmond sighed. “But I can’t afford to spend more money than necessary, so I’m trying to get all of the general classes done so I can make up my mind.”  
“Well, I’m sure they could use more testosterone in the Nursing department.” Evie joked. “How many guys are in your class?” She asked Connor.  
“Including me, three. I have had many girls ask for studying help, and several phone numbers just because.”

The dining hall was packed with students and faculty, chattering filling the space. Evie, true to her word, used her meal swipe for Desmond. They each grabbed a plastic tray and meandered over to the display of the daily food choices for their section of campus, as each dining hall had different hours of operation as well as meal options.

“Oh shit, they have shepherd’s pie.” Evie lit up as she turned to Desmond, who was trying not to salivate over so many food options. “What looks good to you?”  
“Honestly, everything. I’m starving.”  
“Should we find a table?” Connor asked.  
“I think I see some people about to leave.” 

Connor was already moving towards the other side of the room, politely waiting for the group to leave before tossing his backpack on the seat, wiping up some of the crumbs and excess food in his hands. 

“Cool.” Evie set her stuff down as well, stretching her arms above her head. She casually waved at the boys before going to stand in line for the shepherd's pie. Connor made a beeline for the salad bar, but the savory smell of Mongolian food drew Desmond away. Ten minutes later, he had his stir fry and egg noodles, along with a slice of pizza and a huge glass of chocolate milk. He wanted to grab the slice of chocolate cake, but ran out of room on his tray, promising to return later. Might as well take advantage of the free food, he figured as he tried to figure out how he could smuggle some out of the dining hall for dinner tonight. 

Just as Desmond was about to sit, he realized that there were two strangers sitting at his table. Two boys about the same age as Desmond, but they seemed much older than normal college students. One had a perfectly manicured mustache, curled up in a fashionable way. He looked like the kind of guy to get some naive freshman involved in a pyramid scheme. The other guy was completely bald, his cold eyes scanning the room much like a lazy predator, searching for his next target. Unfortunately, he had caught Desmond in his gaze, a slow but menacing smile growing on his face. 

“Sorry, I think you guys got the wrong table. We just put our stuff down here to save our spot.”  
“We didn’t see anything here. Finders keepers.” The mustached man said coldly, looking Desmond up and down.  
“Not even a giant white backpack or a black messenger bag?” Desmond nodded at the items that had been shoved to the ground in a heap. 

The bald guy smiled. “Oops, my mistake.”  
“Yeah, so, can you guys find somewhere else to go?” These guys were rude assholes. Desmond wasn’t used to standing up to bullies, he thought they had just been a thing that movies and tv shows had exaggerated to make their content more believable. The bald guy moved again, but in a welcoming motion.  
“We’re comfortable here, why don’t you join us? I can promise that we’re much better company than the two you call friends.” 

While Desmond didn’t believe that two conversations with people qualified them as friends, he certain as hell wasn’t going to let these bastards walk all over them, especially when they were not here to defend themselves.  
He swooped down to grab their bags, but mustache stopped him with his foot, dragging the black messenger bag under the table.  
“I would reconsider, Desmond.”  
“How do you know my name?”  
“We like to get to know people, it’s part of our job.”  
“By creeping people out and stealing their stuff?” Desmond raised a brow.

“Recruiting. We’ve seen you around, and we’d like you to join our group.” The bald guy said. “We should start over. I’m Robert and this is Crawford. We are a part of a student organization called the _Knights_ , the E-Sports club here on campus. We are in need of talented people such as yourself for our cause.”  
“Why do you want me to join your…cause? How would it benefit you?” Desmond had so many questions, but each answer felt like unfolding another riddle.  
“We are in need of a final person to fill our roster, and you seem like you would be a perfect candidate, and trust me, we have had many people apply.”

“You make this sound like a job interview.” He furrowed his brows.  
“Our name carries prestige. We can give you connections towards many different resources, and we have plenty of those, whether it is future jobs, or scholarships, or even housing.” Crawford narrowed his eyes. That one was way too pointed to be casual, Desmond couldn’t help but raise his hackles. Just how much did these _Knights_ know about him?  
“Thanks, but I think I’m okay where I’m at. I’m way too busy with work to join any clubs.” Why did everyone want him to join their extracurricular activities? Was this his punishment for missing out on normal high school experience? 

“Think carefully at the choice you are making, Mr. Miles, as it will not come twice.” Robert said lowly, extending his hand to him. “This is your chance to make your life much, much easier.”  
“I think I’d rather be where I’m at now than join your cult.” Desmond didn’t even acknowledge the hand between them. “But I will ask you to leave the table since it wasn't yours to start with.” 

“Fine. We’ll go.” Crawford said as both students stood from the booth, looking miffed at the direction this conversation had gone. Robert looked Desmond up and down again, now standing at his full height, the bald man was just as big as Connor was.  
“But this will not be the end of this conversation, you will see us around Desmond. You will regret joining their counterfeit group, and we may not be so kind as to lend a hand when you come to us. Should you change your mind, I left my number in your bag.” Robert's eyes shifted over, Desmond followed until he saw Evie and Connor standing beside him. Connor had taken Evie’s tray as she pushed up her sleeves, her glare as cold as ice. “Until next time. Miss Frye, Mr. Kenway.” Connor looked uncomfortable at being addressed while Evie looked like she would commit murder if they were in private.

“Crawford.” The boy turned around when Connor spoke. “Hand back the messenger bag.”  
The mustached boy looked down at the bag on his shoulder, which looked like it could have belonged to him were it not for the buttons on the side. He slid the strap from his arm and let gravity take hold of the leather book bag, thudding to the ground. Connor shot an arm out to stop Evie from enacting her revenge for her bag, but the duo had already turned to make their way out of the dining hall.

“That pompous, inconsiderate, mother fucking lunatic!” Evie spoke under her breath, snatching her bag from the floor. “If my laptop has even as much as one dent in it, I swear to christ I will end him.” Connor set down her food, gently gesturing for her to sit down. She did so, stabbing her pie with a vengeance it didn’t deserve. Desmond and Connor gave her some breathing room as they turned to their meals. The worst part was that the conversation had carried on so long that his food had turned cold, but that had never stopped him before, shoveling noodles into his mouth.

“Who were those guys?” He asked as Evie started to lose some of the fire in her eyes, slowing her assault on her food.  
“The bald man was Robert de Sable, he’s a graduate student in the history department” Connor explained. “The other is Crawford Starrick, he’s in my year. They’re both members of the _Knights_ , they also play the _Killer’s Code_.”  
Desmond nodded, he remembered Lucy saying there were at least two groups on campus. “So what the hell did they want with me?”  
“From what little I heard, they want you to join their club to piss Altaïr off,” Evie said. “Robert thinks that he’s better than Altaïr and tries to undermine him at every turn possible.”

“Didn’t know I was so popular.” Desmond muttered.  
“Starrick tried to pull the same move with me and Arno first week of class. He lives on our floor and is dating my roommate Lucy. He’s constantly with her, they smoke weed in the bathroom and have sex on my futon when they know I’m in.” Evie was back to stabbing her food. “One of these days I’m going to hold up one of her candles to the smoke detector and casually mention it to the RA when everyone is complaining about the fire drill. Today might be that day.”  
“Have they come up to you before Desmond?” Connor asked from behind a salad bowl as big as his head.  
He shook his head. “No, I’ve never seen those guys before. But they obviously know about me.”

“Let me know if you see them or if they bother you again, I can step in. It isn’t right for them to stalk you around campus.” Connor sounded sincere with his offer.  
“It’s fine, they’re just assholes, nothing I can’t handle.” Desmond shrugged, moving onto his pizza as Connor stood up.  
They quieted down to listen to the chatter of other students’ conversations, Desmond didn’t speak again until Connor came back with a chocolate cake slice for all of them.  
“What did they mean by a counterfeit group?” He asked Connor, Evie looking up from her food with interest. 

Connor sighed, setting his fork down. “About five years ago, back when Altaïr was a freshman, there was a major scandal on campus where an organization was accused of hazing and other crimes, then known as the _Rebels_. Further investigations showed that it was prevalent with both E-Sports clubs, but everyone seems to forget that fact. Some of the students involved were jailed, the rest were put on probation and had to do community service. After pressure from the community, the university decided to disband the group with the most students involved, the rest joining the _Knights_ or dropping the club entirely.”

“So you guys aren’t officially a part of the school?” Desmond asked.  
“Last year we were not, we just were friends that met up to play, we were not allowed to compete. But Altaïr is going to have a meeting with the President of the School and the Board of Trustees later this week to plead our case, to see if we could be granted a temporary allowance for our club. If we can follow the rules and guidelines that the school sets out for us this year, and should we do well, they should grant us the right to become an official club again.” 

“Wow, that’s intense.” No wonder Ezio had been pushing for Desmond to join.  
Evie hummed. “I think we can do it. We need to separate ourselves from the past in order to make a new name for ourselves. I think we could win Nationals.”  
“If we could find another player,” Connor said quietly. After a long beat of silence, he shook his head, the thin braid by his ear swaying with the motion. “Oh. That was not meant to be a guilt trip, Desmond. We did not just meet up to try to coerce you to join, we swear.” 

“So why did you invite me?” He tried to keep his tone light, but the question did remain. Why would they want to spend time with him?  
“To be honest, you seem like a good guy, there are not that many of those kinds of people left.” Connor shrugged. “I wanted to get to know you better as a friend.”  
“Absolutely. The fact that you stood up to those assholes for us just proves it.” Evie chimed in, nodding her head at him.  
“I—Yeah, cool, awesome.” Desmond turned his face back to his cake, his ears burning bright enough to stand out. Desmond never really had friends before, not including Lucy. Did people really wanted to hang out with him just because?  
Maybe it did take two conversations to become friends.

///

By the time the lunch rush was over, Desmond was fuller than he had been in a very long time, even if the pizza wasn’t sitting right with him.  
“What’s your plan for the day?” Desmond asked because that’s what friends did, right? Checked in on plans and made time for more things?  
“I’ve got a two-hour lecture this evening,” Connor said as he glanced at his watch.  
“Today is my easy day. Only one more class in 45 minutes, but it’s on the other side of campus.” Evie groaned. “It’s why I wanted South Quad lunch.”

Desmond whistled. “I could give you a ride if you want?”  
“Really?” Evie perked up.  
“Sure, my car is much closer to this part of campus anyways. I’ll give you both a lift.”  
“Thanks, Des!” Evie patted his shoulder. “Lead the way.”  
Thankfully he had parked in the lot closest to North Quad, although it had been a hike to his math class. His beater of a car was red except for the front bumper, the original had fallen off and replaced with a shiny black fender. That was the newest thing about his car, it had cost him $500, but it was his and his alone.

Evie threw hers and Connor’s backpack at her feet and crawled into the back while Connor struggled to fit into his little car. Evie was just small enough that he could move his chair all the way back and have legroom. Desmond tossed his stuff in the trunk, moving his toiletries and other personal aside to make room. 

He slid in and turned the key.  
_Click._

Huh, weird, but his car was a piece of junk. There had been several times where it took a couple of times to start. He turned the key again.  
_Click._

His engine wasn’t even trying to start at this point. He kept trying.  
Again, and again, and again.  
_Click. Click. Click._

**Shit.**

Trying his best not to sound frustrated, he pulled the lever on the side to unlatch the hood and ducked out of his car. There was no way his car overheated and he had just gotten the engine checked out before he came to school. To his limited knowledge of cars, he could tell that it was something to do with the battery. He lifted the hood, sighing when he saw thin wisps of white smoke rising from the engine. 

**Double shit.**

He felt Connor and Evie join him at his elbow, Evie hissing at the sight.  
“That does not look good,” Evie said as she leaned over the hood. “It sounds like a battery issue.”  
“Have you been running your car more recently?” Connor asked.  
Well, it’s not like Desmond has been living out of his car and needs to keep it running at odd times so he can charge his electronics and keep warm when nighttime rolls around. Thank goodness that wasn’t the case…

“Hold on.” Evie dug out her phone, pressing the screen a few times and holding it to her ear. It rang several times. She murmured something that he couldn’t quite catch as she waited for the person to respond.  
“White Garter Auto Services, this is Jacob.” Evie rolled her eyes and gave an unheard groan.

“Jacob, it’s Evie.”  
The line was quiet for a moment. “Well, well, well, my dearest sister. Why are you calling? To check in on me? Did Georgie put you up to this to find out where I was last night?”  
“No, although that does raise the question, I’ll keep that in the docket for later. I need a tow truck.” Desmond immediately waved his hands, shaking his head venomously. The last thing his bank account needed was a huge bill, especially since his first paycheck was coming in this week. Either Evie didn’t see him or thought he was being dramatic.  
“For your imaginary car?” He asked her cheekily.  
“Desmond needs a tow, you dolt.” She passed off the phone to Desmond, who also held back a sigh as he picked up the line.

“Dessy! What do I owe the pleasure of hearing your wonderful voice?” Jacob’s voice filled his ear.  
“My car won’t run.” He said plainly.  
“I mean, I figured as much from my sister,” Jacob said snarkily. “What kind of noise is it making?”  
“A couple of clicks, the engine won’t even turn over.” Connor moved to the driver’s side, turning the key as Desmond held up the phone to the engine. With the hood open, he could smell the full force of something burning, like rubber or hot wires, and now small tendrils of smoke rose up from the exhausted engine. “Now it’s smelling like something is burning.”

Jacob swore over the phone.  
“Turn the car off. Keep it off until I get there, otherwise, you’ll have bigger problems than just the alternator. I’m getting a truck right now, should be there in about 20 minutes.” Desmond started to speak, but it was like Jacob couldn’t hear him. “Ta ta, I’ll see you soon, please don’t blow up your car when my sister is nearby.”  
The phone beeped at him to let him know he had been hung up on.  
“Jacob says 20 minutes.” He said a bit numbly as he passed the phone back. 

His head was spinning, trying to calculate how much this would hurt. These kinds of issues were not inexpensive and he was already on the brink. He could barely cover gas as of right now, let alone such a huge fix. The Bio-Life center had rejected him this week because of bad health, and he hadn’t heard from any other jobs that he had applied for. He couldn’t ask Lucy for more hours at the store, not only would they not fit in his schedule, he knew she would get suspicious. 

Why had he decided to go to college? Why couldn’t he just pick a trade school or an apprenticeship that would eventually pay better and give his wallet a break? But no, he wanted to prove his family wrong, that he could get accepted into the school and excel in life without them. Now that pride was going to cost him his car and his education. 

A hand on his shoulder stopped his traitorous brain from continuing its onslaught of bad thoughts. Evie kept her hand there until he looked down at her, moving to hold his hand in hers.  
“It’s going to be okay. Jacob is a goofball, but he’s really good at what he does. He’s been fixing cars since he was old enough to handle a toolbox. Your car is in good hands.”  
“I don’t doubt that sorry.” Desmond took his hand back with a sheepish grin.  
“It’s fine dude, car troubles suck. Jacob tends to bend some of the traffic laws, he should be here shortly.”  
“I am sure it’s nothing too serious,” Connor said as he helped Desmond to close the hood. 

There was a handful of students now making their way to class, looking for parking spots so they could go to class. One student stopped their car and sat directly behind them, blinker on to show that they wanted his spot. Desmond shook his head at the driver, he could just make out their middle finger as drove off angrily. All he could do was raise his hands in defeat, Connor reached inside to flick his hazards lights on. 

It took about 15 minutes for the tow truck to arrive, a bright obnoxiously white truck rolling up the pathway, puttering to an idle as Jacob slid out, baseball cap pulled tight on his head. Whistling lowly and bumping his sister’s shoulder, he inspected the engine.  
“Alright, it’s not quite as bad as I thought it was when I heard it over the phone, but I’m not starting up this bad boy until I get in a secured location.” Jacob closed the hood with a snap. “Grab what you need from your car, I’ll get the cables and we’ll get this show on the road.”

Sighing softly, Desmond made his way to his trunk, peeking around that no one was looking, he started shoving some toiletries into his backpack. He just managed to close the top as Evie came around to grab their backpacks from his back seat. She tilted her head at his flurry of movements but moved on when he gave her a thumbs up. 

“I’m going to try to power walk to my class, but I super appreciate you wanting to give me a ride.”  
“Sorry that it didn’t work out.”  
“You’re in good hands, Connor offered to give you a ride back to and from the auto shop when all is said and done.”  
“Cool, yeah, see you later.” He waved her off. Evie elbowed Jacob when he tried to step-side her. He clutched his gut dramatically and staggered, whining as he rubbed the spot.  
Connor and Jacob were waiting for him starting to hook up his car to the tow truck. Desmond threw his stuff into the front of the car and leaned against the door. Maybe everything would be okay. He had to at least pretend that he was hopeful.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who had a birthday, is graduating from college and starting grad school all in one week?  
> This is part of where the shenanigans start to come into play, as well as some plot, and of course feels.  
> Leave a kudos/comment below if you liked it!

///

There is a reason that Desmond isn’t an optimist.

Also, he needed to stop going to his current mechanic ASAP. According to Jacob, it was a miracle that his car hadn’t spontaneously combusted until now. One look under the hood had the guy looking very concerned for Desmond’s well being. It wasn’t just his alternator, it was his battery and his oil tank was leaking oil faster than it could be replaced. As Jacob listed off each of the issues, Desmond was sorely tempted to just tell him to keep his car for scraps. 

Connor was kind enough to stick around while Desmond got the estimates for his car, a number that Desmond didn’t want to repeat back. He had an older grey truck that was a bit rusted around the bumper but nonetheless was operable. It rumbled soothingly as they rode back to campus, some oldies song playing softly in the background. He didn’t try to make conversation and Desmond didn’t bother to be social, still running the numbers in his head. 

It was going to take at least three entire paychecks to cover the costs, and that’s if he were able to work every hour he was supposed to. He could sell the piece of shit, but there go his living situation and transportation to school and work. Why was his life now going to shit? Just when he started to get a handle on things? There was someone up there that had it out for him, and he was 100% not pleased with their sense of humor. 

“How long are you going to be on campus?” Connor asked as he parked.  
“I, uh, I’ve got class. Then I have a shift at the bookstore until late.”  
Both of those were blatant lies. He finished classes before their lunch date and he wished he had a shift tonight, but tonight was his mandated off-night. If he went in, Lucy would want to know why. And unlike Connor as sweet as he was, she would not take his crap. He would rather freeze his ass off on some bench tonight than admit he needed help to Lucy. 

“Oh, do you need a ride afterward? I could always give you a ride back to where you live after your shift?”  
“I live on campus.” He lied, bitter and sour as it left his mouth. Was it bad that it felt normal to keep on lying? “Dorms, just on the Northside.”

Connor either couldn’t tell he was bull-shiting or he had a really, really good poker face. The man merely shrugged and unlocked the doors for him, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel.  
“Okay, let me know if you do need a ride at any point. I can do whatever and whenever you need.” Connor gave him a small smile. It hit like a punch, how could he still be so nice to a blatant liar?

“I appreciate it, man.” Desmond slid out of the car, waving as he slammed the door shut. Connor gave a half-hearted salute and put his car into gear. 

Desmond waited until Connor’s car was out of sight. He groaned softly as he made his way to the campus library, dragging his feet. There was a bus stop out front when he could hitch a ride somewhere where he could hide out until morning. It was going to be a very long night. 

///

Connor hated being lied to.

Ever since he was a little kid, he could always tell when someone was lying to him. It was a weird sense that drove his family and friends wild. Like when his friend Aveline promised not to do anything for his 18th birthday but then threw him a surprise party with alcoholic drinks. Or when he was 8 years old and his parents promised him that they were going to try to make their family work, even though they were filing for divorce. Okay, the first one hadn’t been so bad and he had forgiven her before the end of the week, the second one he was still working on forgiveness. 

But nonetheless, he hated lying, and Desmond was lying through his teeth to him. Sure, Connor didn’t want his full life story, especially since he hasn’t shared his own, it wouldn’t be fair, but he hadn’t expected such a blatant disrespect from the bookshop boy. 

He remembered that Desmond did not work tonight, he had mentioned having the night-off just earlier today. It was a small and random thing to remember, but now he was glad that he did. And he could have sworn that Desmond said he lived off-campus earlier today, but Lucy had mentioned that Desmond was in an apartment. There was too much-contradicting information, slamming his books down much harder than needed. The poor girl next to him jumped, but said nothing, inching away from the fuming man. 

Shortly before his lecture began, he shot off a text to his roommate group chat.

 **CK:** _“Where does Desmond live? I just dropped him off on campus, and he said he lives in the dorms.”_  
There were three dots typing, but before he could read the message, another text notification came through.

**EF:** _“Hey, did you notice the stuff in Desmond’s trunk? He looks like he lives there. I’m not one to judge, I’ve had to live with Jacob my whole life, but it’s kinda worrisome :/ ”_  
**CK:** _“I did not notice. Jacob did mention that Desmond’s car should not have drained that much battery unless he was running it non-stop.”_

The roommate chat distracted him with a couple of texts.

 **EA:** _He told me he lived in the off-campus apartment, but that’s not what Altaïr said. Looks like his stories are catching up with him._  
**AI-L:** _Odd thing to lie about…_

Connor wished to respond, but his professor just walked in and had it not been for his strict no technology policy, Connor would have continued to text through class, (he had already read the material and all the professor would do was read over slides). Biting the inside of his cheek, he put his phone on Do Not Disturb and slid it into his pocket.  
Even without the distraction, his mind still wandered to Desmond the whole lecture. He didn’t care that he lived out of his car or that he was broke, hell, nearly every college student he knew was dead-ass broke. All Connor really wanted to know was why he felt the need to lie. He thought after today they could start being friends, but if this was how Desmond treated them, he was a bit more hesitant than before. 

Of course, the conversation had continued while he was in class, he walked out with nearly 40 messages. Most of the messages were from their **Killer’s Code Group Chat** , he scrolled through the messages while he walked back to the parking lot.

 **AD:** _So I have a friend, and she’s seen Desmond around campus. Honestly, it doesn’t look like he ever leaves campus. Maybe he’s embarrassed about being in the dorms?_  
**EF:** _I just asked Lucy, she said that Desmond was apartment hunting._  
**JF:** _Somebody’s a liar liar pants on 🔥_  
**AI-L:** _Why is there a box?_  
**A D:** _It’s the fire emoji_  
**JF:** _Bruh…Update your phone. It’s old as FUCK_

There were fifteen more texts just roasting Altaïr for his old technology, seemingly forgetting all about Desmond, but there were some unread messages in the roommate chat.

 **AI-L:** _Is Connor still on campus?_  
**EA:** _Yeah, he’s not responding because he’s a good boy who doesn’t text in class._  
**AI-L:** _I’m at the library. Let’s see what’s going on._  
**EA:** _I’ll meet you two there, just swinging by home to drop off my stuff. If we get arrested for stalking, I’m suing one of y’alls_

Connor sighed as he tossed his bag into the backseat, shoving some of his stuff over to one side. It looks like he was their driver tonight. Altaïr hated to drive, even the short distance to campus, and Ezio didn’t own a car, he’d borrow one of theirs if he ever needed it or took the bus. The library wasn’t too far away, he sent off a quick text to let them know he was on his way. 

Ezio and Altaïr were waiting outside for him, talking animatedly as they approached the truck.  
“I’m just saying, tracking someone’s phone is really sketchy,” Ezio said a little too loudly as he threw his stuff in the back seat, claiming shotgun for his own. “That’s how you end up on lists.”  
“I’m using available resources to check up on someone who is potentially a threat to themselves.” Altaïr shrugged.  
“That’s just a fancy way to say Malik let you use him.”

“Okay, so I embellished the details, but who knows, I may be right. We really don’t know who Desmond is.”  
“Still,” Ezio crossed his arms. “It seems kinda shitty to follow him around without his permission.”  
“There is something about Desmond, I can feel it.” Altaïr’s eyes flashed in the fading sunset. “He reminds me a lot of me.”

“Two Altaïr’s running around campus?” Ezio said. “That sounds like a lot of inflated egos to me.” Usually, a comment like that would rile the eldest roommate up, but he was strangely pensive today.  
“Not the ego.” Altaïr made eye contact with both of them, his golden eyes turning hard. “I mean in…other aspects.”

_Oh._

Altaïr’s backstory was one that Connor did not know the entire story. Even Ezio wasn’t sure about all of the details before he met the grad student three years ago. Altaïr was a very private guy, and Connor respected that, even if he didn’t know what happened to Altaïr’s face, or why he spent some days locked in his room with blaring music and enough alcohol to fuel a frat house. The only people who knew were his best friend Malik, who had graduated a year previously, and his girlfriend Maria.

Whatever Altaïr saw in Desmond that made him track his phone and want to help must have been a huge red flag.  
“If Desmond is in danger to himself shouldn’t we go to the police? Or a mandated reporter?” Ezio asked.  
“People don’t appreciate being tattled on,” Connor said. “And we don’t know that he actually wants to hurt himself.”

“Either way, I want answers, and the police will just get in our way.”  
“So what, are we just going to track him down, find out where he is staying, and demand answers from a guy we met last week? I don’t even ask my Tinder dates real questions until the third date.”  
“I just want to know why he keeps all of his belongings in his car?” Ezio and Altaïr looked up when Connor spoke.

Connor filled them in on his afternoon, starting with lunch and their unprecedented meeting with de Sable.  
“Fucking de Sable, should have punched him in the face,” Altaïr grumbled but let him continue to recount the end of the road for Desmond’s car, the urgency he had when he tried to warn Evie not to call Jacob, and seeing his stuff hidden away in his car like a homeless person.  
“That is a bit sketchy.” Ezio shrugged. “Do you think he is actually homeless?”  
“It would explain the car. But why not tell anyone?” Altaïr asked, waving his hand at the rhetorical question. “We should ask him ourselves.”

…

The three of them ended up outside of a Walmart long after the sun had set, watching the people walk in and out of the store.  
Altaïr sighed as he put his phone away. “It keeps circling back here.”  
“Should we go inside? Act like we’re buying groceries or something?” Connor asked.

“I prefer the direct approach.” Altaïr opened his door and slid out. Ezio and Connor shared a look before following him. The last time they had seen him try the _direct approach_ , he was brutally beating a guy that had tried to hit on Maria at a sorority party. While it was highly doubtful that he would deck Desmond in the Walmart parking lot, they didn’t want to take any chances.

Every time Connor walked into this Walmart felt like a fever dream. No matter how he was feeling, going to this store felt like falling into the Twilight Zone. Once, he saw a bunch of teenagers steal the wheelchair carts and drive into the parking lot of the department store next door meanwhile the greeter merely shrugged and kept on reading his magazine. Another time, he found a middle-aged woman lick every single ice cream lid in the freezer aisle. College towns were wild, and their Walmarts attested that.

Altaïr approached the door greeter, a tired middle-aged man with orthopedic shoes.  
“Have you seen a guy who looks like me wander through here?”  
The man looked him up and down, obviously bored enough to humor them.  
“Think so, some fella wanted to know what aisle the booze was down.”  
“Thanks,” Ezio said as Altaïr brushed past him, beelining to the alcohol aisle with his two roommates close behind.

The aisle was partly blocked off by a cleaning sign, another exhausted employee cleaning up a mess of glass and what smelled like tequila.  
“What happened here?” Connor asked.  
“Some dumbass nearly brought down the whole shelf trying to grab a bottle. Must have been completely pissed.” The girl said, angrily shoving the glass into the bag. “I caught him trying to clean up. I told him he’d have to pay for it. Guy nearly broke down and bolted, a bottle shoved in his jacket. Dropped his phone when he ran.” She nodded over her shoulder, Altaïr nabbed it off the ground.

“How long ago was this?”  
“Fifteen minutes, maybe a half an hour.”  
“Thank you.” Ezio pulled out his wallet, handing over a couple of twenty-dollar bills. “This should cover what he broke and what he took.”  
“Don’t know how a guy like that is friends with such a gentleman.” The girl winked in his direction. Connor pulled Ezio back before he could launch into his flirting mode. Once Ezio set his eyes on something, he never backed down.  
“Remember our mission.” He said firmly, frog-marching them out of the aisle. Ezio sent one last look over his shoulder and sighed, pulling out his phone.

“So where could he have gone? Drunk people know few limits, he could be anywhere now.” Altaïr said lowly.  
“Should we split up?” Connor suggested.  
“No,” Ezio patted Altaïr on the shoulder. “I know where he is.” He brandished his phone to them. It was a blurry photo from one of Ezio’s Snapchat friends. A man was laying on a bus bench, an empty bottle of tequila dangling from his outstretched hand. The caption said **‘MOOD’** with a couple of the crying laughing faces.

“Recognize that tattoo?”  
Desmond had an oddly designed tattoo on his forearm that was pretty easy to identify, and even with the quality of the photo, it was just clear enough to see black inking on a bared arm.  
“How the hell did Desmond get that far away?” Connor asked as they made their way back through the store.  
“I don’t know, but let’s go get him before the cops do."

…

“Thank God, he’s still here.” Altaïr was opening the door before Connor put his foot on the break.  
“Altaïr, wait a second.” The grad student ignored his protests and leaped onto the sidewalk, stumbling a touch. Connor pulled the car to the side of the road and turned on his hazards. Ezio and Connor arrived to see Altaïr bent over a sleeping Desmond, prying his eyes back to see if he was conscious.

“He’s breathing and his pupils are dilating.” He said, shaking his shoulder. Desmond mumbled something under his breath and curled in further around empty alcohol bottle like a child would a prized stuffed animal.  
“Christ, did he take a bath in tequila?” Ezio wrinkled his nose.  
“It’s probably from the broken bottle.” Altaïr reasoned, shaking Desmond again. “Hey, wake up.”  
“At least try to be nice, we don’t know what kind of drunk he is yet.” Ezio nudged his roommate aside, laying a hand on the drunk boy’s shoulder. “Desmond, it’s time to wake up.”

Desmond’s eyes cracked open, disgruntled and hazy.  
“No, I’ll sleep here.” He closed his eyes again and turned over.  
“Come on, let’s get you home.” Ezio tried to reason with him, turning his back on his side.  
“I don’t have a home.” He groaned and flopped away from them, pulling his hood over his eyes. “My home broke down.”

The three of them shared a look. So it was true then, Desmond has been sleeping in his car since the semester started, hell, probably before that. It broke Connor’s heart a bit. Didn’t Desmond have friends he could turn to in his time of need? Where was his support system?  
“What should we do?” Ezio asked. “Because I’m not leaving him out here, especially not in this state.”  
“We won’t. We’ll take him back to our place.” Altaïr said without hesitation. “Let him sober up, he'll tell us when he's ready.”

Now came the hard part, convincing Desmond to leave his bottle and bench for the truck. Connor ran back to pull the truck closer to them while Ezio and Altaïr tried to get Desmond to stand up. Unfortunately, drunk Desmond was as stubborn as a child who had not napped all day. It only got worse when Altaïr took the bottle away.

Now Connor did not have much experience with drunk people, he hated drinking and refused to participate in any kind of game with people who were inebriated. It made for a great Designated Driver during parties. However, Connor did spend much of his high school babysitting for his neighbors Prudence and Warren when their son was young. Now Hunter was a great kid, but he threw temper tantrums like no one else he knew. So when it came down to it, Connor would resort to the only way that he knew how to calm someone down and get his way.

Connor strode up to Desmond, gently taking his arm and using the leverage to lift him onto his shoulders. It immediately worked, Desmond too drunk to fight being manhandled like a child. For once, his wider-than-average shoulder span came in handy as he shifted Desmond around like a sack of potatoes. Even Ezio and Altaïr were startled.  
“It is faster this way.” Connor shrugged, not liking how Desmond groaned when he moved.

Connor regretted it as soon as he started moving. Desmond gave no warning before retching loudly, his whole body seizing up. Most of the vomit landed on the sidewalk, but a good portion ended up down the backside of his sweatshirt and jeans, sticky and smelling like stomach acid and tequila. No one moved for a moment, as if to gauge how Connor was going to react. Ezio’s first response though was to cackle like a mad man. Altaïr was trying to hide his smile, but Ezio was on the ground wheezing like this was the funniest thing to ever happen. Connor, on the other hand, was sincerely rethinking signing for an apartment with these two again. 

“I’m sorry big guy, but this just made my night.” Ezio tried to pull himself together, talking between fits of laughter. “How can I help?”  
“You can start by heading back to Walmart to buy some vomit bags and a new sweatshirt and jeans for me.” He gestured the way they had come.  
“But it’s over a mile away!” Ezio whined all humor lost now.  
“Were you not just bragging about how you could run a mile in just over 9 minutes? The faster you leave, the faster we can leave.”  
Ezio sighed loudly and turned on his heel.

Connor turned to Altaïr again. “Help me get him in the car, he needs to hydrate and get some electrolytes back.” He followed silently, but Connor could see him trying to hide his laughter when his shoes squished with every step. Ezio owed an explanation to his mother when she asked what happened to his brand new school shoes she had given him.

With the two of them, they were able to get Desmond wiped up and in the car. The drunk man was much more compliant now, almost docile as he was tucked into a spare blanket and fed a few mouthfuls of Gatorade that Connor had been saving for his gym runs. Meanwhile, Altaïr took several old water bottles and started to clean the sidewalk, letting the vomit run into the gutter. A couple of older ladies had come to wait for the bus, watching them work while quietly conversing in Spanish to one another. One offered a protein bar to Connor for his _‘amigo borracho’_ and the other helped with the clean up with a bottle of her own.

Ezio returned about a half-hour later with new clothes and an apologetic face. Connor stripped out of his nasty sweatshirt, not missing the sly looks from the two ladies as he pulled on the t-shirt. He decided to change his jeans inside the car to avoid anymore peeping. As soon as he was changed, Altaïr and Ezio piled in the car, waving at the ladies and expressing their thanks.

“They were nice.” Ezio commented as they pulled away from the curb, finally on route to their apartment.  
“I don’t think they would have helped, but according to my very limited high school Spanish, they thought Connor was a _tall drink of water on a hot day_.”  
Connor felt his face flush as Ezio laughed again.  
“I am glad that they helped, no matter their reasons.”  
“Admit it, you are a true specimen. You’ve got the same hip-to-shoulder ratio as Captain America, but with twice the ass. As a good friend of mine once said, you are not a snack. You are a five-course meal.”

“Ezio, if you keep chatting him up like this, you’re going to have to put “bisexual” on your Tinder profile.” Altaïr said.  
“Bold of you to assume it already isn't there. If Connor manhandled me like he did Desmond, I would not protest.” Ezio threw a wink at Connor in the rearview mirror, laughing when his face turned red.

“Let’s just focus on what’s at hand now.” Connor muttered, casting a glance back at Desmond. He appeared to have fallen asleep now, resting his head on Ezio’s shoulder. A bump in the road sent his head further into his roommate’s embrace, Ezio immediately accommodated for him as he pulled out his phone to text the group chat of their adventure. Altaïr was checking in on Desmond out of the corner of his eye, a strange look on his face. Altaïr wasn’t one to care for people so quickly. He kept his cards close to his chest and his emotions were kept under lock and key, even with him and Ezio. But they must have felt what he did too.

They may not know Desmond very well, but they sure as hell would not let anything happen to him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the small break, I got a bit behind in my writing and got distracted with other projects (both on here and not yet published), but I'm back with my favorite AU. Things get interesting in this chapter and I am very excited to write more interactions with Desmond and the gang! 
> 
> Feel free to drop a comment or question below, let me know what you think!

///

Waking up to vomit was not how Desmond had wanted this morning to go. Yet from the moment of first awareness, nausea hit him like a 2x4, burning in the back of his throat. He vaguely recognized a bucket at his elbow. Not caring what it was or how it got there, Desmond turned over and retched up the contents of his stomach. Not that there was much in there, to begin with. There were many reasons to not drink tequila, and the aftertaste from vomiting was at least three of the reasons. That’s what he gets for downing two bottles of the cheapest tequila from Walmart. 

He barely heard a voice above him. Maybe comforting him, maybe scolding him, his head hurt too much to tell. How was he still drunk? You’d think that puking all of the alcohol would get rid of the floating feeling, but it didn’t. You still feel like shit. Arms helped him lay down onto something soft, pulling a blanket over his shivering body, more voices talking nonsense around him. It grew quiet, but there was a hand pushing his hair back, dragging nails over his scalp in a comforting way. Desmond wanted to ask who it was, why they felt like they needed to take care of him, but he was so damned tired. 

Desmond rolled over, thinking that he’d thank whoever was helping him when he would wake up if they hadn’t kicked him out by that point. 

///

This time when Desmond woke up was not to throw up, but he still felt like shit. The shades were closed, but his head pounded at the light. The sheets rustled under him as he adjusted his position, his hand brushing against something. Forcing his eyes open, he saw the folded paper shoved into his half-curled fist.  
It took a moment for him to sit up in the strange bed, but he eventually was upright, unfolding the paper and squinting at the words.

_“Good morning sleepy head!_

_Welcome to Apartment H-16. We were worried about you last night and wanted to make sure that you were safe, so we let you crash in our guest room. The bathroom is at the end of the hall, there is a fresh towel and your washed clothes are by the door. Come downstairs whenever you’re ready, we think that we should talk._

_Altair, Ezio, and Connor”_

Desmond groaned, letting the paper fall to the side. He had a fuzzy recollection of last night, most of which he thought was a dream. He vaguely remembered seeing Altair’s face and heard Connor’s truck, but nothing much beyond that. He thought it was his drunk brain trying to trick him into thinking that he had friends. How did they find him? Why did they find him?

He slowly stood up. The room he was staying was completely empty except for the mattress on the floor and the stuff the other guys had left for him. He took the stuff in his arms and peeked outside the room. Desmond could hear voices downstairs and the clattering of plates and silverware. There were four other doors, three of them shut tight, but the one leading to a dark bathroom. Being as sneaky as possible, he ducked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. 

Desmond didn’t quite shower, he did not feel comfortable enough to strip butt naked in someone else’s house, but using some hand soap and a corner of the towel, he wiped down his face and underarms. He removed the borrowed sweatshirt and pajama pants, also probably Ezio’s, as Desmond was taller than Altair but Connor’s would have drowned him in fabric. His laundry smelled like lavender and felt soft to the touch. All that was missing was his white hoodie and socks. 

He took a few minutes to antagonize in the bathroom, wondering what the hell they wanted to talk about. Did they want him to apologize for wasting their time and supplies? It’s what his dad would have had him do, except with him a verbal apology wasn’t enough to show his regret.  
He shook his head. There’s no way that the three of them would force him to do manual labor for hours on end, or write lines until blood dripped onto the paper, or being banned from the kitchen pantry for days on end, (and those were just the punishments for back talking). Perhaps they wanted to check in on him, make sure he would be okay before letting him leave. But the negative voice that sounded a lot like his father had its doubts. Rinsing out the taste of stale vomit and tequila from his mouth, he took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom. 

The stairs creaked under his feet as he slowly descended. The dark green carpet under his bare feet was rough and brittle from years of use and lack of proper care. The stairs spat him out right next to the front door, a decent-sized living room off to his right. The room was full of mismatched furniture. A lumpy, L-shaped sectional couch, a long grey recliner, a wooden tv stand with a television on top, and a black coffee table stacked with mail and other papers. 

The tv stand was filled with movies and video games, the consoles for the games stacked on top of each other. The stark white walls weren’t completely bare, there were a few odds and end mounted on the wall. Several posters for the _Killer’s Code_ and several photographs of people Desmond did not recognize, as well as a giant black and gold flag of their university over the couch. 

“Well, it is nice to see you up and at ‘em.” Desmond looked from the photos on the walls to the voice. Ezio was sitting at a dining room table at the far end of the apartment, next to another door. Altair looked up from his place in the kitchen set up between the two of them, Connor popping up from where he had been crouched down behind the counter. “We weren’t expecting you for a few hours.”

Desmond felt extremely awkward, like a deer caught in the headlights as all three of them looked at him. He opened his mouth, maybe to ask where the rest of his clothes were, or maybe to thank them for having him, but Altair beat him to the punch.  
“Breakfast is almost ready. Wash your hands, and help us move the table. It’s too tight of a squeeze in the corner for all of us.” Altair continued to wash dishes at the sink, stacking them off to the side. Connor continued to put the dishes into a dishwasher while Ezio went to the living room, moving the coffee table out of the way. 

“Bathroom’s all the way at the back. Al likes to have clean hands.” Ezio informed him.  
Desmond opened his mouth.  
“We’ll talk once we have food in front of us.” Ezio nodded his head at the bathroom and went about setting up the living room. 

A bit dumbstruck, Desmond walked to the back of the apartment. Washing his hands in the tiny bathroom, Desmond saw a stacked washer and dryer unit, the dryer still running lowly in the background. Once he was cleaned, he started to help Ezio bring out the table and chairs from the corner.  
“We usually don’t use the table and chairs, we all just sit on the couch and eat or go to our rooms,” Ezio commented as they moved the table out.  
“It is nice to eat family style.” Connor nodded with him, setting out the plates and silverware. Desmond helped him make sure everything was ready.

“Alright. Come get y’all’s shit.” Altair slapped the towel down on the countertop. “Let Desmond get some first, he’s the guest.” He said. Ezio ushered Desmond forwards. Altair was keeping a close eye on him, watching as Desmond started to pile food on his plate. The scrambled eggs were fluffy and the hash browns were extra crunchy, just the way he liked them. There was an assortment of sausage and bacon as well as beans and a small pot of oatmeal. Altair kept looking at him until his plate was packed with all of the foods, only then did the Arabic man seem pleased and let the others come into the kitchen. 

Ezio grabbed some condiments for the table and brought them over when he had finished, his plate stacked high with bacon and sausage. Connor and Altair joined them shortly, but Ezio had already finished half of his plate. It was mostly quiet as they ate, but Connor and Ezio did start talking about the upcoming weekend, that Connor would be gone for most of the weekend to visit his mom and someone named Achilles. Altair was on his phone but nodded along.  
Desmond tried his best to eat slowly, but it was hard with his stomach growling. Ezio finished before him though, getting up to get more food.

“Does anyone else want bacon?”  
“Desmond does,” Altair said without looking up from his phone.  
“Oh, no. I’m okay, you can have it.” He tried to wave him off. Altair finally looked up from his phone, golden eyes locked onto him as one eyebrow raised.  
“I can count all of your ribs through your shirt. You’re allowed to eat more if you’re hungry, we won’t be mad if you do.” His voice was strangely calm and warm, like the way you talk to an anxious child, but less condescending. It was almost like he was trying to console Desmond with his words. 

Reassured but curious, Desmond stood up with his plate in his hand. He split the last of the bacon with Ezio, which made the other guy smile.  
“I don’t know how you can keep eating that? Did you have anything else on your plate?” Altair said as Ezio sat down again.  
“Because it’s good.” He said with a mouthful of said food, Altair wrinkled his nose.  
“Now I see why your Tinder dates don’t stay long after a dinner date. I always thought it was because of your cooking skills.” He quipped.  
“Low blow, Mr. I-Don’t-Eat-Meat.” Ezio rolled his eyes, chewing extra loud on the bacon before swallowing.  
“As much as you want that to be an insult, it’s just an observation that isn’t offensive.” Altair went back to his phone. 

“You don’t eat meat?” Desmond asked.  
“My body is a temple, and unlike somebody, I am careful about how I treat it.”He shrugged. “Which is why I am in peak condition while you run as well as Connor’s truck.”  
Connor frowned, just trying to eat his meal in peace. “Leave Aquila out of this. She has worked well for over thirty years, she has never given me any sort of problems.” 

“Speaking of cars having problems.” Ezio changed the subject, his head nodding in Desmond’s direction not so subtly.  
“We should not bombard him while he is eating,” Connor said.  
“So, Desmond how long have you been living out of your car?” Apparently Altair agreed with Ezio, setting his phone down to look at him with an unwavering stare. 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Desmond couldn’t help the hitch in his voice, caught a bit off guard at the direct approach.  
“Don’t mistake us for fools, Desmond,” Altair spoke evenly, he didn’t sound upset, but the rigid body posture said otherwise. “How long has it been?”  
“…A few weeks.” He saw Connor’s mouth tighten and Altair’s eyes pinched slightly. “It’s not that big of a deal.” He tried to console them.  
“Not a big deal?” Connor asked. “You were living in your car for several weeks, that sounds like a pretty big deal.”

“It’s not supposed to be permanent. Just until I found a place of my own.”  
“How’s that search been going?” Altair asked. “Are you narrowing your search for places to live?”  
“Yeah.”  
Ezio tilted his head dubiously.  
“I mean, it’s a work in progress.”  
“What were you going to do with your car in the shop?” Ezio asked. “Sleep on the streets?”  
“I was going to find somewhere to sleep.” Desmond protested. In all honesty, he was probably going to fall asleep in the Walmart or some other place that was open 24/7. Get as many hours before the employees kicked him out before moving on to the next place.

“So why lie about it?” Connor asked.  
“So I could try to avoid conversations like this.” Desmond looked down at his plate, fighting the urge to just brush this off and leave. His defense mechanism was to run away, it was probably the only thing that he was good at. Being weak or vulnerable made his fight or flight urges go off, and right now he wanted to get the hell out of here. The only thing stopping him was his missing clothing, (he really wanted his sweatshirt back, it was his favorite one), and the fact that he had absolutely no idea where he was. 

“Desmond, we are not trying to make you feel bad, but I am not going to lie, I am really concerned.”  
“I didn’t ask you to be.” Desmond shot back, immediately regretting snapping at the guy. “Sorry, but I didn’t. I barely know you guys, and I appreciate what you’ve done for me, I’m not your responsibility. I’m an adult now, I just need to get my shit together and make this work.”

“Look, this is an uncomfortable topic for you, I get that. Especially with three people you only sort of know. But no one should have to live out of their car while going to school and working.” Altair said, pushing his plate aside and letting a notebook flop where his food had been. “Ezio and I have been crunching the numbers all morning, most of it being an estimate because we don’t know your situation, but we want to help you.”  
“Why?” Desmond asked. The last time someone had offered to help him out was a long time ago, and that had completely backfired on him and proceeded to make his life an even bigger mess. That had been someone that he trusted, what was stopping these three to fucking him over? Besides, he barely knew these guys, they had no obligation to help him. 

“Because I have been in the exact same position that you are in,” Altair said. “I have no idea what your home life is like, and it’s not my place to judge or ask you to give details, but if I were to guess, you were not able to get the same kind of help that I did. I want to help you, not because you’re a charity case or it’ll help me sleep better at night, but because I genuinely don’t want people to be in the same kind of situation I have been in.”  
Desmond looked up at Altair, trying to see past the hard exterior that he had for everyone and see where he was coming from. 

Altair didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would know where Desmond had come from. Altair had put himself through college, he had already graduated and was pursuing more. He had friends, and even a significant other if the photo on the wall was correct. He wasn’t damaged like Desmond was, he wasn’t a complete fucking screw up. But there was something about his eyes, underneath his perfectly crafted mask, there was a pain. The kind of pain that he had only seen in the mirror before today.  
Maybe he did know what he was talking about.

“Okay, I’ll hear you out.” Desmond sighed. The corner of Altair’s mouth turned up slightly, it was the closest he had ever seen him smile. 

Connor offered to take care of the dishes while Ezio and Altair poured over Desmond’s financial situation. Ezio was an accounting major, he knew how to properly sort and classify all of Desmond’s payments, debts, and deposits based on importance and the day they were due. He even made an Excel spreadsheet to organize it better for Desmond. Despite all of the color coding and organization, it still didn’t change the numbers in his bank account. 

“This is great and all, but I still don’t know how I’m going to be able to pay my tuition or this massive bill at the car shop.”  
“Did you qualify for financial aid?” Altair asked.  
“Not this semester, I missed the deadline. I’m applying for the winter semester.”  
“That’s where I come in,” Ezio said, closing the laptop. “Buckle up buddy boy, because I’m about to become your support system.”  
“My support system?”

“So, in case you didn’t know, my family is stupid rich,” Ezio explained. “Like, if it wasn’t for my dad’s massive contributions to charity and the fact that he pays his workers an actual living wage, we’d probably be billionaires. True, I don’t act like the entitled bitches around here, Altair made sure to beat that out of me before we signed an apartment together.”  
“Don’t you work at the Italian Oven?” Desmond asked, remembering a vague conversation about it.  
“Yes. My mother wants me to come out of college with some skills, even if that skill includes allowing white moms to yell at me because the food is too expensive. Either way, it gives me enough money to cover rent and my other activities.” Ezio shrugged.  
“So, what does that have to do with me?”

“I’m getting there. What I’m trying to say is that my father is always looking for someone to help out, even if it’s someone he’s never met before. I talked to my dad this morning, and he’s agreed to loan some money my way so I can help you with your financial situation.”  
“H-he’d do that for someone his son barely knows?”  
“Well, when I Skyped my family, I might have implied that you were already my roommate. My mother insisted that we help and when Maria Auditore knows you need help, there is no power in hell or heaven that can stop her.”

“What’s the catch?” Desmond asked.  
“There is none…” Ezio looked between the two of them with furrowed eyebrows.  
“You want me to become a…your Sugar Baby for literally nothing in return?”  
“Well damn, if you want to refer to it like that, I'll be your Sugar Daddy,” Ezio smirked as he spoke. Altair elbowed him in the ribs. “But in all honestly, my family wants to help you at least with renting a place, and I’m not about to be a scumbag. I guess the only stipulation would be that you move in here since I already told them you’re my roommate.”

“I don’t even have a bed?”  
“Connor has the blow-up mattress that you can sleep on until we can find you one, and Goodwill probably has other furniture if you wanted something of your own.” Altair said.  
Desmond opened his mouth but closed it after a few seconds. He was being offered one of the biggest things on his needs list and he was about to turn it down. 

“I guess I don’t really have a choice.”  
“You always have a choice,” Altair spoke up firmly. “I’m sure this isn’t something to hang over your head as if you owe us.”  
“No, no.” Ezio agreed. “Hell, if you wanted to, you could take the money and find somewhere else to live. We just want to help you back on your feet.”  
In all honesty, Desmond had nowhere else to go. These three were the closest things he had to friends, and they had just shown the amount of care and kindness that Desmond has not seen in a very long time, perhaps ever. He’d be an idiot to turn it down. 

“So, do we have to talk to the leasing office about this or what?”  
Ezio smiled brightly, opening up his arms.  
“Then welcome home _fratello mio_!” The Italian man pulled him into an awkward hug. Desmond took a minute to warm up to it, but Ezio wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hope you do not mind hugs,” Connor spoke up from the back of the apartment, holding a folded sweatshirt and socks in his hands. “Ezio likes hugs.”  
“Those two hate 'em. Connor usually bats me away, Altair actually pulled out a knife on me the first time I tried.”  
“And I think about it every time you try.” He agreed, standing up. “I’ve gotta go get ready, I have the meeting with the university board today, and I will be damned if I don’t look professional.”

“Let me know when you want to go.” Connor gave the clothes to Desmond. “I can drive you to campus, and we can go get the rest of Desmond’s things from his car.”  
“Sounds like a plan.” Altair gave a thumbs-up as he headed upstairs.  
“Alright, let’s get this back to the dining area. I wanna play _Red Dead Redemption_ before my class.” Ezio stood up, offering a hand to Desmond. He looked at it for a moment, but nodded and grabbed his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the LA Times, nearly 56,000 United States college students are considered homeless. A terrible fact I found out today :/


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I can't believe I haven't updated in like two months. I have so much inspiration for this fic, but never in chronological order so I've been putting off this chapter forever bc I didn't know how to phrase it. Although it may read like an ending, we are JUST getting started with this fic.  
> Do I know how long this will be? No, but we'll find that out together. 
> 
> Thank you for all of your nice comments and all of the kudos, it's been getting me through the hell that is grad school haha. 
> 
> Anyways, much love. Don't forget to comment and leave a kudos!

///

Apartment living was much different than what he had thought it would be. The leasing office took some convincing to let him sign on late, but Ezio had turned the charm up to 100 and made it work. It also helped that there was an anonymous donation to the complex around the same time, so the landlord was a bit lax about the rules, as long as Desmond would sign for another year when the promotion went around. The fact that he had a place to go after work and class was something that took getting used to, but at least it got Lucy off his back about finding a place to live. 

There wasn’t someone to keep tabs on him or his whereabouts, just an occasional text from one of them asking if he was coming home for dinner or saying that there were leftovers for him if he wanted them. Even with how nice they were, Desmond found he was spending more time in his room, even taking his meals to his room. It wasn’t that Desmond didn’t like the guys or that he didn’t trust them, he just felt more comfortable hanging out in his room. The only comment that he got about it was Ezio checking in on him when he ran into him in the kitchen. Desmond didn’t even have to explain himself like he would have had to back at home and it wasn’t a guilt trip about the time he was spending alone.

Desmond learned a lot about his new roommates in that first week. Sometimes they were small things, like how Altaïr didn’t eat meat because he had grown up without it and continued to practice because it was easier to do. He also got up at the crack of dawn to workout, and he liked to listen to punk rock when he was working on papers for the classes he was the Graduate Assistant for. He had a girlfriend named Maria, but Desmond had never her. He’d say he was just pulling his leg, but he could hear a female voice on the phone occasionally. 

Ezio on the other hand, had a very odd sleep schedule, sometimes going to bed when Altaïr was just getting up. Ezio loved to play other games outside of the Killer’s Code too, often streaming games with some friends at other schools. He could benchpress everyone in the apartment and could shotgun a beer in under 20 seconds. Ezio loved his family, he would often Skype his dad and brothers back in Italy. 

Meanwhile, he learned that Connor he loved to cook, especially large homemade meals from scratch. He was often gone at class or the library because of how intense his classes were, but he usually came home before Desmond went to bed. He also found out that Connor was half Native American on his mom’s side. She had grown up in the St. Regis Mohawk Tribe but moved to Boston for college, where she had met Connor’s dad. She lived around a half-hour away from school and he often went to visit her on the weekends. He had been mentioned in the Kenway house and his mother insisted on meeting him.

Of course, the bigger things came later on. Like that Altaïr was adopted as a baby after his parents died. Desmond was warned to never mention his guardian or to question the days that the door was slammed shut and he didn’t emerge for classes or even for food. Only two people knew all of the details. They did not need to tell him twice, it did explain how Altaïr knew about bad home life.  
Connor’s parents divorced when he was 8 years old, and he only spoke to his father when necessary. He was the second biggest prick in the world, only falling short to a man named Charles Lee (Connor couldn’t even mention his name without narrowed eyes).  
Even Ezio’s life had its lows. His father and two brothers had been deported when Ezio was in high school. He, his mother, and sister were saved from the same fate on some small technicality and were allowed to stay. Their family has been working to get them back in the good graces so they could come back, but they only ever saw each other at Christmas. 

This kind of information hit Desmond hard, but somehow it helped him to open up to them. Knowing that they were not perfect, they wouldn’t judge him for his mistakes. He still had yet to talk about his home life, but his roommates were nothing if not patient.  
Little by little, he started to come out of his room, spending time watching Ezio play games on the Xbox as he ate his meals. Sometimes Altaïr would join them, but he would be scrunched in a chair surrounded by textbooks and papers. 

Hell, Desmond got comfortable enough that he made dinner for everyone and they watched movies one night, joking around with food and booze. It was the most basic chicken and noodle meal ever, but Desmond had never had to cook for himself before. He had to ask Connor to help, which his roommate gladly did. Ezio got a little too excited when Desmond mentioned that he had experience with mixing drinks, promising to buy some alcohol to show them some of his favorites.  
He also got added to their group chat for their club, even if he wasn’t officially a part of the group. His phone was constantly blowing up now with notifications, usually memes he didn’t quite get or random polls often initiated by Jacob. 

Desmond was slow to say it, but he felt like he was at a good place in his life. His job was going well, Lucy and Rebecca would chat with him during his break, Shaun was a dick, but he did get one sorta nice thing said about his stubbornness, so maybe he was getting somewhere. His roommates were great, even his classes were going well. He dropped one of his classes after finding out from an advisor that he didn’t need the credit for the class, so he had more free time on his hands now. 

That’s why he asked Ezio to help him download the Killer’s Code onto his computer one Sunday morning. It was just for fun, he had insisted on the Italian, but the shit-eating grin on his face wouldn’t go away. Ezio was showing him the settings and explaining some of the characters when Altaïr walked in the door, ushering in Arno behind him. They both looked nice, wearing button-down shirts jeans. 

“Who’d you get dressed up for?” Desmond asked as Altaïr sat on the couch.  
“Church.” Altaïr toed off his shoes, letting them flop to the floor.  
“You go to church?” Desmond paused. He never thought of Altaïr as a Christian, and they had had more than one conversation about religion.  
“Maria is a Christian, she and a couple of her sorority girls, including Arno’s friend, go every Sunday.”  
“So are you…?”

“I might believe in a higher power, but until I can have evidence one way or another, I’m impartial. The main reason I go is to make sure Robert can’t make Maria uncomfortable.”  
“De Sable goes?” Ezio asked, wrinkling his nose. “I thought part of being a Christian was not seeing yourself as the center of the universe.”  
“Yes, I do wonder what he’s doing myself, but now and then he tries to convince Maria to get back together with him. I have complete faith in Maria, but just to unsettle him, I go as well.” Altaïr shrugged. “It’s one of the few times where I get to be quiet and not have people ask me questions. But this old lady thinks I’m trying to practice Sharia law every time I enter the building.” 

“You should start speaking Arabic at her, see her reaction.” Ezio teased.  
“There are at least ten people with open carry licenses, I don’t have a death wish,” Altaïr said flatly.  
Ezio grimaced, turning his attention back to the game. 

“So what’s up with you, Arno?” Desmond asked.  
“Not much, I just don’t want to go back to my dorm yet. I think my roommate is in a cult and he makes me feel uncomfortable. I also have laundry and everyone does their laundry on Sunday..”  
“Wait wait, back up a sec. Did you say a fucking cult?” Ezio asked. 

Arno held his hands up. “I have no fucking clue. But he hangs around this kid named John Standish, he’s always out at nighttime with “his brothers”, and he gives me these vibes like he would kill me if he knew he could get away with it. There was this incident where an emotional support rabbit went missing and was found hanging in the rec lounge.”  
“You think he was part of it?” Altaïr looked disgusted but intrigued.  
“I don’t know man, but he had a lot of clothes to wash the next day.” Arno shuddered. “So the less time I spend in my dorm the better.”

“Damn, that sucks.” Ezio nodded. “I know what having a shitty roommate is like. My first year was good, I roomed with my friend Leo from home, but he moved off-campus with his boyfriend the next year. My second-year however I roomed with this bastard named Caesere and he was the biggest asshole I’ve ever met. He made my life a living hell; throwing parties on nights that I had to study, reporting me to the RA about the dumbest things, half of which weren’t even true. He never cleaned up after himself, broke my microwave, and I pretty sure he fucked his cousin.”  
“You said you didn’t know for sure?” Altaïr asked.  
“She was **NAKED** in his bed, what else could they have been doing?” Ezio threw his arms out. 

“Disgusting.” Desmond shuddered.  
“What the fuck is wrong with people?” Arno asked. “Evie has been having similar problems with her roommate.”  
“They’ve never had to share anything before, you can tell these people are only children.” Ezio shook his head.  
“Hey. I was an only child and I turned out fine.” Altaïr protested.  
“Me too,” Arno agreed.

“My point stands, y’all are weak. You have never had to play dress up every day for eight years with your baby sister. Forced play makes one stronger.”  
“Funny, Claudia told me it was you always bringing it up.” Altaïr teased. Ezio grabbed one of the pillows and chucked it at his roommate. Altaïr ducked just in time, but it hit Arno instead. That was an act of war, Arno immediately retaliated with the thrown pillow. While both men fought, Altaïr turned to Desmond. 

“So you’re finally playing KC, who do you want to main as?” He slid over to the couch.  
“I’m not sure, I think I want to try Warrior class first.”  
“Good pick. What about a character?”  
“This Daniel guy looks kind of cool.”  
Altaïr squinted at the screen, shrugging his shoulders.  
“Yeah, but no one likes to play as his character.”  
“Why?”  
“His special move is absorbing all of the enemy's special moves, but to get to that point, he has to rack up a shit ton of points, and his other moves are not that strong. No one likes playing him because of that.”

“Well, I like underdogs,” Desmond said quietly.  
“Nothing wrong with that.” Altaïr shrugged. “Just giving you a heads up in case you start getting anonymous hate in multiplayer.”  
“I haven’t played multiplayer yet.”  
Ezio stopped his assault. “Why don’t we have everyone come over tonight? Most of us are here anyways. Connor said he’ll be home by 3, so we can cook and play games.”

“As long as it’s okay with the rest of the house.” Altaïr looked at Desmond.  
“Of course, yeah.” Desmond shrugged.  
“I already texted the group,” Arno said as he threw down the pillow, flopping into a chair. “I have an assignment due at midnight, but I can stay for a bit.”  
“Awesome, we can pick them up from campus around 4.”  
“In the meantime, I’m going to kick Des’ ass at multiplayer so he doesn’t feel so bad when he gets shit on by everyone,” Ezio said with a bright smile, pulling out his laptop. 

“I don’t know about that Ezio,” Altaïr said. “Desmond is the underdog.”  
“But at least he’s not the updog,” Arno said with a smirk.  
"What's updog?" Ezio was distracted, so he didn’t realize the trap he had walked into until it was too late.  
“Not much, what’s up with you?”  
This time, the pillow thrown at Arno was on purpose.

///

Turns out that Desmond was a quick learner, Ezio only ended up winning a handful of matches against him. After he got the controls down, he started to strategize and come up with plans. Not all of them worked, and he did get himself killed more often than not, but he understood why the guys and Evie enjoyed the game so much. 

Connor came home earlier than planned, holding an armful of leftovers to the delight of the apartment. Altaïr and Connor prepared the food while Desmond offered to pick up the twins from campus and let Arno grab his stuff. Evie came down with Arno, tossing her bag in the back and crawling in. 

“No Jacob tonight?” Desmond asked.  
“He has better things to do.” Evie shrugged. “He hasn’t been responding to my texts today, so he’s probably out with some girl.”  
“Is that normal for him?”  
“He gets distracted and forgets that he owns a phone. Did you finish the assignment for Omar’s class?”

Desmond had to commend her on her deflecting skills, especially since he was a pro at them. He let it slide for now. They weren’t quite good enough friends for him to call her on the bullshit. They talked about classes and school for the rest of the ride. 

The apartment smelled divine when they walked in, like cheesy cholesterol-raising goodness. Connor’s mother gave full-time home care to a man named Achilles, even moving in with him to help him 24/7. Despite his age, he still got around pretty well for a man with a limp, Connor even told the story of how Achilles laid him flat out. Anyways, his mom and the old man got along and always sent home-cooked meals, including his famous mac and cheese. Altaïr was sautéing some asparagus and mushrooms. A loud whistle told everyone the food was done. 

Everyone was eating food and happily talking for at least an hour before Altaïr said they should play some games.  
“Dude, chill, this isn’t an official practice,” Arno said, rubbing his stomach as he debated going for a third helping of mac and cheese, eyeing it as Connor packaged up the leftovers.  
“It’s never too early to prepare for Nationals. We can’t afford to be sloppy.”  
“You’re forgetting that we need to be an actual team to even think about Regionals, let alone Nationals.” Ezio corrected his friend.  
Altaïr was quiet for a moment, giving the Italian roommate a look.

“Wait…Holy shit you’re not saying-?”  
“I got an email for Dr. Vidic this morning.”  
If they didn’t get a noise complaint about the yelling that erupted in the living room, they would be damn lucky. Connor nearly dropped his Tupperware at the sudden noise. 

“Holy shit, this is amazing!” Ezio cheered. “How did you convince them?”  
“Yeah, you did not seem too positive about the initial meeting,” Connor said as he joined them, a small smile on his face.  
“Honestly, Vidic tried his best to make us look like a shit show. Kept bringing up the Rebels and asking if we planned on doing the same shit our predecessors did,” Altaïr clenched his fists. “But I kept my cool, like Connor and I practiced. It also helped that one of the faculty at the meeting was super supportive.”  
“Which one?” Desmond asked.  
“I think he’s the head of the Greek Studies department, I didn’t catch his name, but he put the idea to a vote. It was close, and there are some stipulations for us.”

“What kind of rules?”  
“Well to start, no hazing or weird rituals.”  
“Damn, there go all of my plans. Might as well quit now.” Arno remarked dryly.  
Altaïr sent him a dark look. “Don’t joke about it. My best friend nearly died because of the events that caused the first group to disband.”  
“Shit, sorry dude.” Arno apologized, holding his hands up.

“You know what happened?” Evie asked, uncurling her legs from the armchair. “I tried to do research, but it was not very well reported on.”  
“I was a freshman that year, I wasn’t there, but I was able to piece it together. It wasn’t well reported on for a reason, the school shoveled out a lot of money to keep it out of national news. They didn’t want to affect incoming freshmen.” Altaïr was getting very tense, Desmond could see the twitch in his jaw.

Ezio saw it too, changing to the subject. “What were the other rules?”  
“We have to practice on campus, in a well-lit space with cameras,” Altaïr continued. “Which I think is stupid, but I’ll ask if the faculty member who supported us is willing. Finally, we need to rebrand our group to put the past behind us.”  
“Oh, that’ll be easy.” Ezio waved his hand.

///

It was not easy.

It was almost 10 pm before anyone came up with an idea for what to call themselves. No one seemed to be able to think of a good name, a couple were thrown out as suggestions, but none stuck. Evie and Arno had to leave soon so they could still get into the dorms without swiping in, so they needed to think quickly. 

“I think we should go with Connor’s idea of the Wolves,” Ezio argued.  
“There is already a team with that name, we can’t copy teams,” Altaïr announced, looking from his computer where he had a list of all of the teams across the nation.  
“What about the Dragons? I think it would pair well enough with the other team.” Evie said, rubbing her face tiredly.  
“I don’t want to be associated with them.” Altaïr wrinkled his nose. He has perched on a chair again, a casual position for the graduate student even though it looked uncomfortable. 

Desmond still though he looked like a chicken about to lay an egg, it also reminded him of the predatory birds that used to perch in the woods behind the Farm. He liked to spend time in the woods, it was his go-to spot to get away from his dad, he’d spend hours looking for hidden paths and footprints of different animals. His favorite though was sitting on the edge of the field, watching the birds swoop down and catch their prey. It was like a beautifully coordinated dance- the dives, and majestic rises, so free to do whatever they pleased. Being in this group reminded him of that feeling of freedom. To be who he wanted to be.

“What about the Eagles?” Desmond spoke up.  
Everyone stopped to look at him.  
“The Eagles? The Eagles…” Ezio said it aloud several times to get a feel for the name. “I like it.”  
“It’s fine with me.” Evie looked exhausted like she would take any name at this point just to go home.  
“It’s better than the fucking Rooks.” Arno shrugged. “What is a Rook anyway?”  
Connor, who had stepped out to answer a phone call, stuck his thumb up in approval.  
“I don’t know,” Altaïr said, pulling a face.

“Dude, seriously, let us go home.” Evie groaned.  
“There are no teams called the Eagles, right?” Ezio said gently.  
“No.”  
“And doesn’t your name mean Eagle in Arabic?”  
“It does.” Altaïr slowly nodded.  
“And wouldn’t it be the best thing to have De Sable lose to a team that is your name? Your team, your eventual legacy?”

Altaïr turned to his roommate. “You always know how to stroke my ego. Fine, the Eagles it is.”  
“Awesome, I’ll make t-shirts.” Evie threw her stuff in her bag, pushing Arno towards the door. “We’ve got ten minutes till curfew, so let’s go.” Connor ended his phone call and got his jacket. They gave a hasty goodbye as they left, Evie driving them out.

Altaïr shook his head as he got up. “I’m going to shower.”  
“Don’t wait up for us.” Ezio waved him off.  
“I’m going to bed too.” Desmond agreed, dreading his early morning shift tomorrow.”  
“Hey, Des.” Ezio got his attention before he vanished upstairs. Desmond peeked around to look at his roommate. He gave a smile to him, a real genuine show of care on his face. “Nice job on the name. I’m proud of you.”  
“Y-Yeah, it’s no problem.” He stuttered out as he hurried up the stairs. He was man enough to admit that Ezio’s words struck a chord in him, a dopey smile stuck on his face for the rest of the night, and most of the next day. Even asshole Shaun couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

Desmond finally belonged.


End file.
